Harlaown's Legacy
by LoneTraveller
Summary: <html><head></head>AU. Mid-Childa now desperately tries to bolster her forces in its war with Belka... but Belka is not one to sit idle. Untested and fresh from academies, the Cadets of the Navy now face the worst possible foe... and their maiden voyage could be their last.</html>
1. Titans' Fall

_From the Author: Hello once again. It seems that "Traitor's Loyalty" and "Knight's Dishonor" are going to have to wait. The Ideas finished "Harlaown's Legacy" and "I Spy, I Knight" first for me to write. To you first time readers who might wonder if you will understand this story, don't worry. Each story listed here was crafted to be readable by themselves as an AU fic. (You would be encouraged to read the other stories to get a full picture though)_

_To those who are ready to kill me over my Code Geass Fanfics, go ahead and do it. The Ideas are sending so many conflicting thoughts that chapter four seems to be getting pushed in ten different plot directions. That needs to be sorted out before someones' brains get hurt real bad._

_Rather than bore you with my problems... Onwards! The Story Awaits!_

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><p><em><strong>Titans' Fall<strong>_

"_CRADLE!"_ Hollered a dirt-caked soldier as the entire platoon he was with began a haphazard retreat.

"NO! Stay Away… STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!" Screamed another trooper as he was pinned down by a vaguely, humanoid looking robot. Ignoring the frantic soldier's pleas, the machine began its slow and painful execution of the soldier.

_Rriip!_

"YEARGH! PLEASE! PLEASE STO-ARGH!" A passing soldier- a private- saw his trapped officer and frantically pointed his magic gun at the droid, firing indiscriminately at point blank.

The private whispered to himself in horror when the bullets put gaping holes in the droid's head but did absolutely nothing to stop its actions, "Gods… what _are_ these things."

"_HURK!_" was the officer's last cry as the machine tore out his still beating heart and tossed it aside like a ball.

Realizing the droid now had its eye on _him_ the Private tried to back away in animal panic. Alas, he was too late. No one else looked back. No one else wanted to fall victim to the Belkan's soulless and unrelenting war-bots.

They were men and women of the Mid-Childan 65th Enforcer Regiment, by no means the toughest and strongest bunch of Mages the nation could muster, but not pushovers either. They had been attached to the legendary 48th Fleet of the great Mid-Childan Armada, commanded by the equally illustrious Admiral Gil Graham.

Said overall commander of the battle, was currently overlooking the now completely ruined counter-attack that they were supposed to attempt on orders of High Command.

Admiral Gil Graham crushed the urge to sigh like a defeated man in front of his men. He had earned his post with grit and bloodshed. He could not show weakness. But given the current circumstances, no one would really have the right to blame him.

The wily old Admiral had been given three fleets; the 20th, 41st and 48th to lead into a counter against the Belkan advance with elements of the Enforcer Corps- Battalions 64 through 74.

In total, his forces stood at nearly a fifteen thousand crack troopers, a thousand drop troops from the ships and four thousand naval crew veterans. He had thirty two ships, two of which were equipped with their latest weapons and the rest were as close to spanking new as they could get without having the freshness smell.

The enemy on the other hand, had fielded a comparatively paltry force of a single Wolkeritter Company, with a single Cradle for support. The commander was also a relative unknown and while capable in combat, left much to be desired in stratagem.

Gil Graham would very easily had succeeded in forcing the Belkans on a back-foot once more, if only the Wolkenritter Commander had not caught wind of his presence in this particular operation through the Belkan's own extensive spy network.

Sir Graham and Dame Yagami Signum had some serious beef between them following his complete humiliation of herself and her men. He successfully persuaded a bunch of cowardly Belkan Nobles to surrender Signum in a siege for safe passage, making a complete mockery of not only the Belkan military, but the nation itself.

Ever since the day the Belkan Commander had managed to escape from her cruel and demeaning captors, she had publicly sent a declaration that the entirety of the 48th Fleet would be slaughtered with their families as well, Man, Woman or Child.

Yagami Signum lost all moderate views or hopes for a peaceful end to the war that very day, and had turned into the ruthless General of the Blazing Fires who was now so feared by both Belkan and Mid-Childan.

Gil Graham barked out commands for his Communications Officer to signal a full retreat, and to hurry the evacuation of the city currently under siege; generically named Frontier Outpost, due to it being closest to the Belkan border. He knew this day was inevitable. He knew that he would one day pay for stepping aside to let the High Command have their wretched way with the Belkan prisoners.

Yes, Gil knew full well that he and his men probably only had a few minutes left to live, and he did not try to prolong their lives. They had all deserved what they got.

Every last participant of this little counterattack had been members of Squads or Regiments that shouldered the most responsibility for the many war atrocities that Mid-Childa had committed against Belka. The aging Admiral was far too experienced in life to refuse part of that responsibility as well.

Staring silently out the window to see the oncoming wave of promised doom, Gil Graham silently prayed for his daughters' safety and for forgiveness from his God.

With a firm and grim tone, Gil Graham addressed his crew for the last general order, "Signal the fleet! Form Defensive position pattern Sigma… Gentlemen and ladies, dark days befall us now, and we are no longer delusional with visions of grandeur. The enemy is at our doorstep, and threatens the lives of many… "

"We have made our mistakes. We have committed grave sins, but I will not have _our_ foolishness cost the lives of innocents!" Gil roared as he only had in his youth. Age seemed to leave him, to prepare his frail body for one final push.

"We will stay and fight till every last civilian is out, or we _will_ die to ensure it!" At the final words, the fleet pounced into action.

All over the bridge of his mighty flagship, weapons officers were barking out orders to shunt all spare energy into shields and massive transport spells that would take the civilians out of designated spots of the city to the nearby reinforcing fleet twenty kilometers away, commanded by Admiral Clyde Harlaown.

"What of the Enforcer Regiments Admiral?" Shouted an aide, "They're not responding on all channels and we suspect the Belkans are jamming our long range lines!"

Gil Graham could see the blinding glow of the charging Belkan weapons even over their great distance. His men on the ground were closest to the enemy and simply too far to actually retreat in time. He silently cursed the bloody company commanders who chose ignore his cautions and fallen so neatly into trap.

But angered or not at being unable to withdraw the troops, it was an impossible task at the given moment, Admiral Graham simply stared at his aide, and the officer immediately knew the answer, relaying his Admiral's unspoken command.

The Enforcer Regiments were abandoned.

A tense minute of activity followed as the more civilians were evacuated, and for a moment, Admiral Graham thought that he might just be able to get his fleet and the civilians out in time.

He was wrong.

"ADMIRAL!" Was the pained cry from the radar officer that jolted his attention from the evacuation progress. Looking out into the distance, he saw just what had dismayed the soldier so.

In the distance from Frontier Outpost, _three_ Belkan Warships had finished charging up their dreaded Main Guns. Though sight proved useless in obtaining enemy numbers, the radar had also picked up no less than four Combat Cyborg Regiments and a full three Regiments of regular Knights.

Those were reinforcements for the Belkans courtesy of one Commander Yagami Signum.

"INCOMING!" Shouted a weapons officer, as the balls of doom hovering beneath the Belkan warships turned into streaks of light shooting in their direction.

"All shields up to full." Whispered Admiral Gil Graham, "We must get the civilians out at all cost, even if we have to die for them."

The crew froze.

"GO!" Snarled Admiral Graham, startling his men into motion.

_Just three more civilian pockets left…_ Thought the Admiral, as the impending doom crept ever closer.

_Two left…_ The attack was very nearly upon them now. The transport officers were screaming for every last spare erg of energy to get the thousand or so people out.

_One more!_

The attacks slammed into the shields of the twenty or so remaining vessels of Admiral Graham's fleets, and all was deadly silent for a split second.

_BRRRAAAAAAAAAM!_

The fleet and the city it defended were suddenly in a sea of fire. Communications lines with the five ships that took the brunt of the attack vanished into static instantly. Seconds later, the three ships forming the second line of the formation vanished into the light.

"Admiral! Shields are falling _fast!_" Shrieked a half hysterical engineering officer.

His aide turned white as he was updated on the fleet's status, "The third line has vanished! _Gloria, Turner, Dawn of Man, Liberty Hammer, Constant Presence _and_ Zealotry_ down with all hands!"

Ignoring the report, Admiral checked the status of the evacuation, hoping against hope that the people had made it out alive.

"_Bzzt… Admiral Graham! We've got the last of the civilians; now get the hell out of there!_" Squawked his personal communications line.

It was Admiral Clyde Harlaown. Gil wished he could hug the bloody hero.

"Shields. 10%" Murmured the engineer, too certain of her fate to even be panicked.

Smiling tiredly, Gil Graham pressed the transmit button of his device, "It's too late for us old friend. Go, May you one day find your peace."

The last line of ships in front of his Flagship disappeared in the raging fires. Alarms began to howl all over the bridge as the shields finally gave way and left the mighty vessel at the mercy of temperatures it was never built to withstand.

"May God have mercy on us all" Whispered Admiral Gil Graham, as the windows of the Bridge cracked ominously, the fractures showing up as clear as day on the magically enhanced glass.

Moments later, the glass blew inward, showering the crew with deadly shrapnel.

And Gil Graham knew no more.

Flames and searing heat followed an instant later, and consumed the corpses or those unlucky enough to survive the glass shards.

Then, the mighty flagship too succumbed to the fierce flames… and vanished.

When the light had subsided, all that was left to prove the existence of Frontier Outpost, Gil Graham or his men, were the three towering mushroom clouds of fire that shot straight up into the sky.

Twenty kilometers away, Admiral Clyde Harlaown stared numbly at his hissing communications device.

"Admiral?" Whispered his aide and wife, Major Lindy S Harlaown.

"Signal the fleet, we head for the fortress city of Draco. Don't forget that we have civilians. We will protect them." Admiral Clyde paused, "We shall not let Admiral Gil Graham and the brave soldiers who died for these people do so in vain."

* * *

><p>"Tell Captain Reaver to float to port! Try to outflank the left most Cradle!" Clyde Harlaown was forced to cling onto his command seat as a shock wave ran through the ship, "Status report!"<p>

Clyde's new aide, Captain Hamasaki was good, if not brilliant, but she lacked the level of synchrony he shared with his wife, Lindy. Hamasaki took a full second longer than Lindy to absorb all the information on the battlefield and relay it to her boss.

He sometimes wished Lindy had not gotten her promotion to Rear-Admiral.

"Enemy point Cradle, _Fiery Dawn, _sunk!" Hamasaki spoke evenly; too aware of the situation to even celebrate the fall of one of Belka's greatest weapons, "The main assault force of the Belkans is pulling back and taking minor losses."

Tapping rapidly on her command screen, Hamasaki sent an updated list of the fleets' to Clyde, who nodded appreciatively.

Admiral Clyde Harlaown had been given command of Fleets One through Five, Enforcer Regiments Thirty through Forty Five and a platoon of Striker units to combat the advancing Belkans at the fortress city of Draco.

That made his army the biggest one fielded for a single battle in the entire history of Mid-Childa.

But the Belkan numbers more than explained such a massive deployment of materials and men.

An unprecedented number of _Five_ Cradles had been deployed to take Draco, which was hardly surprising since it was the main highway to the capital of Clanagan. A fully equipped Wolkenritter Company had been sent in with ten Battalions of the Regular Knights. Needless to say, the Cradles had also come stocked with at least a thousand Cyborgs each.

Added to the fact that the new Mistress of Darkness was apparently in charge of the Belkan army and was a seriously powerful Knight, Clyde was thankful for the thirty Strikers who were still keeping the Mistress at bay.

Enforcers symbolized the elite of the Mid-Childan Army, but the Strikers were truly a class of their own in the Mid-Childan magic arts. They were quite really the crème de la crème that the Mid-Childans could muster. Each an A-Ranked or S-Ranked mage in their own right the Striker team certainly was able to do their job distracting the SS –Borderline SSS- ranked Belkan Commander, whilst wreaking untold havoc on the regular Knights in the way.

"Rear-Admiral Williamson has a report from Third Fleet! Charge of the Arc'en'ciel cannon has been completed!" Hamasaki glanced at Clyde, "He awaits your command to begin bombardment of the right most Cradle!"

With Rear-Admiral Thane of the Fourth Fleet forming a firm formation directly in the path of the remaining two central Cradles, the odd were starting to look up for the Mid-Childans. Clyde was glad that his tactics had successfully drawn the Belkans into close combat to prevent their use of their own Cradle Main Weapon.

Clyde understood very well that sheer firepower had its benefits and pitfalls. Admiral Gil Graham had made a devastatingly fatal mistake in the Battle of Frontier Outpost; engaging Belkans at distance.

Such a strategy might provide the Mid-Childans with some advantages given their aptitude for ranged magic, but balancing the differences between the risk of having to face a Cradle Main Weapon blast or the sword of the mighty Belkan Knights, close in combat, was ironically more helpful to the Mid-Childans.

Thus he had managed to craft a sly plan that literally had him using the Striker team and two platoons of Enforcers moving around the advancing Belkans to hit them close in and from behind, forcing them closer to the city defenses than they would have anticipated. The Enforcers had mostly died of course, but thanks to their sacrifice, the battle was very much to the Mid-Childan's favor.

The other advantage of the Mid-Childan forces was their own super-weapon; the Arc'en'ciel. It paled in comparison to the Cradle's big gun, but it was capable of more surgical shots instead of plain area attacks. It was what allowed them to break the tough Cradle's shields and armor. It was the only available weapon capable of sinking the dreaded Belkan warships.

Snapping off the order for Rear-Admiral Williamson to commence bombardment of the Belkan's Cradle named _Swift Wind_, Clyde returned his attentions to the rest of the melee. The Belkans were getting battered from all sides, but they were hardly going to give up, even with so many cannons bearing down on them.

Glancing at his own ship console, he noted that his own vessel, the mighty _Ashura,_ would be capable of firing its own Arc'en'ciel in a minute, hopefully allowing them to bring down the second Cradle in the vicinity of Captain Reaver's detachment

A sudden flash of colossally bright light was the first indication to Admiral Clyde that something had gone horribly wrong.

Hamasaki's voice had a slight tinge of chagrin in it as she relayed the cause of the flash, "The city generators have been sabotaged! City Defense Guns' shields are going offline!"

There was a second massive flash, and this time, Clyde felt a strong rumble travel through the ship.

"The City Guns have been destroyed!" Yelped Hamasaki, all sense of decorum gone.

Clyde understood her reaction; the City Defense Guns were the pride of Mid-Childan engineering. Twelve tri-barreled monstrosities that hung in two arcs at the city outskirts facing Belka, they were more than capable of annihilating any platoon of Knights foolish enough to approach them, or slow a Cradle down considerably.

But Clyde's purpose for them lay not in their guns. The massive cannons had a minimum range of two kilometers. The Cradles were hanging close at just inside the cannons' range and the rest of the Knights had already been shielded from the cannon rounds on the way in thanks to said Cradles.

No, Clyde had intended to make use of the City Defense guns as points to concentrate his land-based defenses. Each gun had a meter of reinforced alloy encasing and was protected with every last magic abating spell the Mid-Childans knew. Even Cradles would have a hard time cracking the guns open. Then, due to their sheer size, each gun was large enough to shelter as many as a hundred troops who could pop out to attack an enemy and retreat before a counter was made.

But with the loss of the guns, Clyde suddenly had nearly a thousand fewer Enforcers, and no hard points of defense for his ground forces, and any Belkan ranged fighter was now freed to take potshots at the Mid-Childan flotilla.

The problem was that Belkan _pot-shots_ would come from below the vessels, which had been forced to divert energy to the bow to ward off the Cradles. A lucky strike could easily wipe out a gun emplacement, or worse-

_BOOM!_

Clyde bit back a curse as he saw an older L-class warship, the _Protector,_ go up in flames with all hands; he didn't need Hamasaki to tell him that.

A strong enough Belkan Knight could actually strike the vulnerable reactor cores of a ship and blow the whole thing to kingdom come. The more recent LS-Class that Clyde was on had settled that problem a while back, and most other ships like the E and G classes had separate reactors or sufficient shielding to prevent such an embarrassing way to sink.

But the 4th Fleet that was taking the brunt of the assault _was not_ made of such ships. The 4th Fleet was an extreme oriented one comprised largely of Aggressive L-Classes or Defensive D-Classes.

The Lancer-Classes as the L-Class was affectionately named, would deal serious blows against an opposing fleet using their vast array of weaponry, whilst the older D-Classes utilized two sizeable shield projectors each to provide cover and had just enough guns to make an attacker think twice.

"Pull the 4th fleet _back_!" Roared Clyde, "Tell Admiral Thane to switch the D-Classes to full shield projection! Captain Reaver is to pull his detachment away back towards the guns and ascend to five hundred meters!"

Clyde knew his backup plan well and his men knew it too, but with the tide so suddenly against them, everyone wondered if they would be able to make Plan B work.

Then things got worse.

The brilliant flash from Rear-Admiral Williamson's Arc'en'ciel cannon demolishing the Belkan's _Swift Wind_ became starkly contrasted against a truly malevolent and gargantuan ball of dark energy.

"Diabolic Emission!" Stuttered Hamasaki.

At once, Clyde realized what had happened. The Diabolic Emission was a forbidden Belkan spell that could be used only by the most powerful of their kind. By power, a mage would need raw energy greater than that of any normal S-Ranked mage to safely carry out such a tainted spell.

The Mistress of Darkness had broken free from her encirclement.

All at once, the airwaves came alive with the definitely feminine but absolutely frigid voice that Clyde did not want to hear.

"Heed me foolish Mid-Childans!" The Mistress was only whispering, but her magic was sending her voice out as clear as day, "Flee now if you value your life, for you shall not receive a second chance!"

"_No!_" Clyde slumped numbly into his chair amid Hamasaki's frantic pleas for orders.

A radar officer shouted out, "We have visual of the Mistress! Putting feed on screen now!"

Yagami Hayate's youthful but haunted face blossomed onto Clyde's command screen.

"Admiral!" Hamasaki screeched once more.

Forcing himself out of stupor, Clyde ground his teeth and called out, whilst looking at his own screen, "Status of Arc'en'ciel cannons!"

The report was far from what he wanted to hear. Admiral Williamson only had twenty percent charge to the guns. Fleets One and Two had been using their Arc'en'ciels for rapid rate, lower power bursts on the enemy ground units to even the land skirmishers' odds. His own Fifth fleet was the only one with a full charge.

And the Fourth Fleet, being one of older ships, did not even come with the damned cannon.

_At our current rate of battle… We could actually lose!_ Clyde scowled visibly. He was not going to let the Belkans take one more step into Mid-Childa and he was going to pull off a victory, even if he had to yank it out of his own ass.

"Open communications! I-It's the Mistress!" Squeaked the communications officer.

Wordlessly, he tapped his screen to accept the call, "Hayate… It's been a while."

Ignoring the looks of shock on his bride crews' faces and the exclamations from the Belkan side, Clyde chose instead to concentrate on taking in the visage of the once innocent girl he had met so many years ago.

"Hello… Uncle Harlaown." Hayate had hesitated for a moment as though wondering if she should still address him as such, "It's been about nine years to be exact."

Clyde glanced off screen to look at the progress of the battle, and noted that the Fourth Fleet was really getting a pounding as it retreated. Turning back to Hayate, Clyde's face turned serious, "I know you're not here to talk of the times when I gave you piggybacks… what do you want Hayate."

The Admiral felt a slight sense of relief that Hayate had not snapped back a harsh reply, signaling a level of civility and humanity still inside her.

He was even happier to see her swallow visibly, "I want you to surrender."

Clyde was flummoxed by that question, and by the sound of the protest in the background on the Mistress' side, her own compatriots must have thought that she had gone completely mad.

It was surprising, true, but Clyde Harlaown knew better enough about reading a person to tell that Hayate really wanted to stop the fighting. It was a very tempting offer as well, given that victory would come to his men at a very steep cost, and surrender would save many lives and much expensive materiel.

But Admiral Clyde was never able to try and negotiate terms or start an unconditional surrender.

Hamasaki's panicked shout rent the air of the bridge, "Admiral Williamson! What are you doing! _STOP!_"

For one fleeting moment, Admiral Clyde's awkward reunion with his dear friend's daughter and a chance to help Mid-Childa reconcile with Belka had nearly begun. The next, Clyde could only watch helplessly as a stunned Yagami Hayate and her entourage were engulfed in the pure white flames of Admiral Williamson's Arc'en'ciel discharge.

"No… NO!" Clyde screamed, "Hayate! By God, Williamson! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?"

"I thank you for creating such an unprecedented opportunity for us to strike a crippling blow to our enemies! It will be a magnificent victory for us!" Williamson's visage was one of insanity and blood-lust, "Now! We must finish the rest of these monsters-"

To Clyde's growing dismay, a Cradle had fired its Main Cannon behind Williamson's Third Fleet. It was apparent that the Belkans had become so incensed that they were willing to risk getting burnt by their own guns to finish off all the Mid-Childans.

The young Admiral was right.

"ALL MID-CHILDANS WILL DIE FOR THEIR TREACHERY!" Roared a Wolkenritter on the open airwaves. He was obviously the new leader of the Belkans, "NO MERCY!"

"ARGH!" Screamed Admiral Williamson as he and his entire fleet vanished into a glowing sea of fire… along with a good chunk of Draco city, a tenth of the surviving Enforcer units and a platoon of Knights who had been too close to the blast.

"Bring all our forces in for close ranged combat!" Clyde shouted over the growing racket in his bridge, "We cannot let the Belkans continue to use their Main Cannons!"

"But Admiral! We don't have the firepower to go head to head with _three_ Cradles… and what about the negot-" Hamasaki cringed when Clyde shouted back angrily.

"We just lost that choice! Tell the Fifth fleet that we will be entering the battle as well! Charge up all weapons and give me full speed! We'll be going right into the center of the enemy formation!"

Ponderously, the Fifth Fleet, which had been hanging back from the battles, began their slow and steady cruise in towards another Belkan Cradle that had taken up position as a spearhead for their increasingly ferocious assault.

All at once, that same Cradle had begun to focus its heavy guns on the _Ashura_.

Admiral Clyde Harlaown was thrown to the floor when two lucky magic cannon strikes broke through the flagships shields and pounded into the ship's hull, ripping gaping, flaming holes all over the ship's vast bow.

"Fire the Arc'en'ciel!" Shouted Clyde, his right hand glowing with magical energy that took a full and unnervingly long second to unlock the weapon's firing mechanism.

A low hum filled the ship as the firing sequence was initiated.

Then, a single streak of white magic infused energy flowed from the ship's twin-pronged prow and crossed the distance to the enemy Cradle. It struck the Cradle dead amid-ship. A massive shield appeared and held against the onslaught for a few seconds, the Cradle furiously lobbing volleys back at Admiral Clyde's Flagship.

But those few seconds passed, and the Arc'en'ciel's power output did not falter. The shields shattered with an ear-splitting crack, and the magic blast washed over the Cradle's thick armor, melting through section after section of bulkheads. The blast passed over the reactor room, and caressed the core, sending it straight into overload.

The Cradle's attacks stopped an instant later and its bow drooped down. Then, it exploded in a colossal flash of fire as ammunition stocks and the reactor core blew up, raining hell on the Knights and Enforcers fighting beneath the now destroyed vessel.

"Arc'en'ciel charge status of Fleets One and Two?" Admiral Clyde clung onto his seat grimly as the downed Cradle's sister ships began to focus their fire at his own vessel.

Over the din, an engineer hollered in distress as the shields of the mighty _Ashura_ began to overheat and fail. Clyde face fell even further as Fleets One and Two reported a charge of only Fifty and Sixty-Seven percent respectively. They needed three minutes at least to reach the necessary charge of Ninety-Five percent to properly breach the Cradle's armor.

"Shields down!" Hamasaki reported

_FLASH!_

Clyde was confused. One moment, he'd been seated in his command seat, the next; he was sprawled on the floor that looked like part of the corridor _below_ the bridge.

"MEDIC!" Someone screamed

Hauling himself up to his knees, Clyde gave himself a once over when he felt a short sharp twinge in his right leg. His right calf was half as thick as it should have been, and the his uniform was in a burned, slightly bloody mess.

"Hamasaki? Hamasaki!" His aide didn't answer, she was in no condition to do so after all.

Clyde found Hamasaki Asakura propped against the corridor walls just two meters to from him, blood leaking out of her mouth and scalp. It looked like she had hit her head against the bulkheads on her way down. The odd angle her legs were at also told Clyde his aide's knees had probably been shattered by the impact.

"Admiral! The bridge is gone!" Shouted an Ensign as he came rushing into the corridor with a whole team of medical officers.

Slapping away a medic and ordering the soldier to tend to his aide, Clyde shouted for a status report.

"Our Fleet is holding at Ninety percent fighting capacity, but Fleet Four is taking heavy casualties! They got just eight ships fully combat capable! Flagship _Spearhead_ is going down!" Shouted a communications officer; a lieutenant.

Admiral Clyde winced as a medic began to cauterize his wounds to stop blood loss, "What about Fleets One and Two? The Enforcer and Strikers?"

The lieutenant hesitated for a moment, but his training kicked in and he managed to spit out the bad news, "Admiral James was killed by a Belkan Drone Bomb… The 1st Fleet reports just Three ships are left, suffering heavy fire under Captain Reaver's command. Admiral Damien's fleet is barely holding the line with nine ships and will commence firing at the port-side Cradle in twenty seconds."

Clutching onto a handrail as another cannon volley shook the _Ashura_, the lieutenant gave the final bit of his report, "Enforcer numbers down to Forty percent combat capable. They've suffered Forty-Five percent casualties so far. The Strikers… still missing."

Biting back the very real urge to drag Admiral Williamson back from the dead to kill him again, Clyde began to consider all the options available to him… to win this horrible battle. But his brilliant mind was failing him. With the numbers he had, there was still no way his men could take out the remaining Cradle, even if Admiral Damien succeeded in his strike.

Deciding he needed a better view of the situation, Clyde pushed past his protesting, concerned subordinates, climbing painfully up the debris to get to his ruined bridge.

A lookout standing in the remnants of the _Ashura's_ bridge screamed, "INCOMING!"

The Cradles had begun to concentrate their fire on the _Ashura_ once more, and forty cannon rounds zeroed in on the mighty ship. To save their commander, the two attendant D-Class warships of the _Ashura_ moved to intercept the oncoming attack head on. Clyde could only watch with grief tearing at his heart as the two vessels and their brave crew went up in flames and began their final descent to the earth below.

A kilometer to port, Admiral Damien fired his flagship's Arc'en'ciel cannon into the targeted Cradle and began its inevitable destruction, but not before it belched out an undercharged Main Cannon Round into the ground, burning nearly all the remaining Enforcers and Knights.

Clyde could also see the faint glow of the sole surviving Cradle charging up its horrendous weapon. The weary admiral let his head droop. They were finished.

_PING_

Jerking up, Clyde saw a shield appear over the Cradle's stern, right where it's reactors should have been. All at once, his personal communications came alive, "Hello- this- Strike- Delta 18. We'll break a hole for your Admiral, so pound these bastards to hell!"

Nine tiny figures appeared over the crest of the Cradle's stern, drawing a storm of physical and magical attacks as they went. The surviving elements of the Striker Teams maneuvered with incredible skill around the Cradle's furious defenses, striking out with everything they had, battering the shield till it cracked… and broke.

Sensing their last mother-ship's vulnerability, every last Belkan Drone Bomb, over four hundred in all, hurled themselves at the _Ashura_.

No matter how fast Clyde could have magically unlocked his ship's main weapon, he would not have been able to destroy the Cradle for two Bombs had slipped past the point defenses, and slammed straight into the ship's main weapon array. Their last trump card was gone.

Or was it? Clyde jolted in realization that his LS-Class had three super-reactors that could together yield a blast equal to that of the Arc'en'ciel. His vessel obviously needed that sort of power. Fumbling for the self-destruct keys, Clyde made a magic connection to the ship's main computer.

_Self-Destruct mechanism offline…_

_Auto-Pilot module severely damaged… unable to compute courses…_

_Shit!_ _Of all the rotten-_ Clyde's stomach grew cold as a feeling of something otherworldly overwhelmed him. He knew what he had to do, but it was not something that anyone would have liked.

He needed to ram the _Ashura_ into the heart of the last Cradle.

"Admiral! Are you alright?" Chirped his communications link to the commanding Striker, "Do you-"

"I'm so sorry soldier." Clyde grit his teeth, "But I need to ask one last thing of your men… break the Cradle's armor plates so I can crash this ship into it."

"Sir!" Cried the lookout, "That'll be suicide!"

Clyde bit back the tears; the lookout was right. _None _of the Strikers would get out alive if they turned back to strike the Cradle. And neither would the crew driving the ship.

"Understood Sir." Were the last words that the Striker said, his- or was it her- voice, Clyde could hardly tell over the background noises, full of duty suppressed anguish and purpose.

Nine once retreating Mid-Childan soldiers hurtled right back into the thick of the fray, and began blasting with wild abandon, drilling a hole into the Cradle's stern. The first one to die, was hit by a lucky defense cannon attack.

The second, had been stabbed by two Wolkenritter, but had valiantly taken the enemies down in a final violent explosion of magic.

The third and fourth sacrificed their lives to keep the endless hordes of Belkan Combat Cyborg at bay and went down fighting.

Fifth, continued to shoot at the Cradle even as the Cyborgs tore at his body.

Strikers six to eight took down as many defense emplacements they could to allow the _Ashura_ as much a chance in reaching the enemy vessel.

And as the other elite mages fell around her, the last Striker had finished her most potent spell, and cast it into the heart of the Cradle as the Cyborgs reached her.

Letting the tears flow freely over the lives of so many men and women that he had sacrificed, Clyde whispered to the lookout, "Tell everyone to abandon ship… that is an _order_."

"But-"

"I'm not going to let you all die with me." Clyde stared the man in the eye, "Go."

Shoulders sagging in defeat, the lookout saluted his admiral, "What shall I tell Admiral Lindy?"

Stiffening for a moment, Clyde found himself surrounded by the memories of his wife. His children. His _life_.

"I died for our people." Clyde whispered, "But you must live for them and show them the love that made us so great… Tell her that word for word."

The lookout accepted the final mission given by Admiral Clyde, and left.

Using his magic to take control of the ship, Admiral Clyde Harlaown pushed the vessel's power output far beyond its red-line. The _Ashura_ shot off like a bullet on its final run.

Immediately, all nearby Belkan units had begun to converge on the _Ashura_ desperately trying to save their precious Cradle from destruction.

In the final few seconds of his life, Clyde idly wondered if this war could have been avoided if he'd been careful enough to prevent the death of his dear friends. To avoid all the suffering and hell that had occurred in the past nine or so years. To have a happy and carefree life with his family.

The _Ashura's_ badly deformed prow smashed against the barely repaired bulkheads of the final Belkan Cradle, immolating itself with the barrier. Moments later, the Mid-Childan Flagship had reached the Belkan Cradle's Reactor Core.

Clyde knew his time had come. _I love you Lindy… Chrono… Fate… Nanoha… _the list was so long, and so many of them were in a place where he would never go… in peace and paradise.

_Being a stupid pessimist again aren't ya Clyde_ The man was flung into the Reactor room by the impact, and he was sure the concussion was making him hallucinate.

_You are not hallucinating my friend. _Ah… Clyde could see them now… figures bathed in holy light. He knew them… they were old friends… people he had failed to protect.

_You did what you could Clyde… now you must place you faith in them… in yours and our legacy. _Clyde found himself face to face with Admiral Gil Graham.

Clyde wanted to argue. His wife was a strong woman surely, but the might of the Belkans was surely too much. One of his kids was also Takamachi's daughter, and no doubt all of his children were skilled, but they were but barely into their teenage years. He did not want them to see their childhoods destroyed by war.

_We know that the trials they shall face will be great, sometimes overpowering… _Was that Signum's and Hayate's father? _But they will find their place… I know it._

_It's what it means to have faith_ Mrs Takamachi held out a hand, beckoning Clyde to come.

And Clyde understanding their words grasped the hands of his fellow fallen titans… and left.

* * *

><p><em>The Battle of Draco was notably the single bloodiest battle in the history of the Mid-Childa, and one of the most fearsome in Belka. Surviving Mid-Childans would one day recount tales of the merciless strikes of their Belkan enemies and the might of their war machine. The Belkans recalled the tenacity and courage of their Mid-Childan foes…<em>

_But above all else… The few survivors of that horrible day would recall it as:_

_The Day The War Should Have Ended_

_Mid-Childa_

_Overall Commander: Admiral Clyde Harlaown (Deceased)_

_Sub-Commanders: Admiral James Pierce (Deceased), Admiral Damien Wolfgang, Rear-Admiral Thane Gordon (Missing), Rear-Admiral Williamson Smith (Deceased)_

_Striker Forces: 32 (All Killed-In-Action)_

_Enforcer Regiments 30-45: 12500 (9056 Killed-In-Action, 2356 Wounded-In-Action)_

_Ground Mages Corp Division V-VI: 28700 (21007 Killed-In-Action, 7693 Wounded-In-Action)_

_Navy Corp: 9340 (7056 Killed-In-Action, 1140 Wounded-In-Action)_

_Flagships: Ashura (Sunk), Guardian (Sunk), Spearhead (Sunk), Steadfast (Sunk), Theodore (Scuttled) _

_Fleet Vessels: 68 (49 sunk, 6 scuttled)_

_Defense Cannons: 12 (All Destroyed)_

_Belka_

_Overall Commander: Mistress of the Night Sky Yagami Hayate (Paralyzed and Retired from command)_

_Wolkenritter: 124 (118 Killed-In-Action, 6 Wounded-In-Action)_

_Knights Battalions I-X: 11020 (8011 Killed-In-Action, 1989 Wounded-In-Action)_

_Imperial Navy Corp: 6700 (6645 Killed-In-Action, 55 Wounded-In-Action)  
><em>

_Flagship: Fiery Dawn (Sunk)_

_Fleet Vessels: 4 (All sunk)_

_Drone Bombs/Units: 12000 (All Destroyed)_

_Combat Cyborgs: 5400 (3925 Destroyed, 16 scraped)_

_Outcome_

_Pyrrhic Mid-Childan Victory_

_Aftermath__:_

_The Battle of Draco was followed by the Great Omen of Draco; the furious fire caused by the Belkan Cradle attacks that burned what remained of the city to the ground. All attempts by the Mid-Childan forces to douse the flames proved futile, and the pyre burned itself out after a week, leaving the scorched remains of earth and life._

_Having lost Thirty percent of their fighting capacity, with considerable takings to defend, Belka's blitzkrieg was ground to a halt, and a tense stalemate ensued. All told, Belka had lost a quarter of their Cradles, due to the Battle of Draco. The Wolkenritter losses also cut their elite Knight numbers down by a tenth._

_Mid-Childa had however, suffered far more harrowing loses for the victory they pulled against the Belkans. The loss of so many good Admirals and ships left the Navy in complete shambles. Half of the Enforcer Regiments had been annihilated. The Ground Forces could barely hold in a fight with Belkans when they had superior numbers. Only Three Striker Platoons were left._

_Neither side was in any condition to push at each other with force._

_Thus their Cold War began._

_Belka sent its dreaded cyborg spies into the Mid-Childan cities to gather information and destroy key assets when the Belkans were ready to invade again. Belka's 'newer' variants of the Combat Cyborg were to be feared more than the soulless abominations on the battlefields._

_Programmed to be capable of faking any emotion perfectly, these machines could be anywhere, striking at any time, and they could be anyone. A street beggar, a popular politician, a best friend… a lover._

_In the meantime, Mid-Childa embarked on its most ambitious attempt to undermine the Belkan forces; Operation Cloaked Dagger. A fair number of the many war orphans held by Mid-Childa had been borne of less than savory unions- unwilling unions. But it also meant that some of these children had Belkan blood and magic in them, which suited the Mid-Childan Special Operations Command just fine._

_They would gather a few, strong magic users, train them up in Belkan Magic, insert them into the orphanages of Belka, and watch as the war machine picked them into the fold. Then, when the time was ripe, these agents would give their lives to kill any target from Belkan Nobility, to its future Knights, or if fortune favored… The King and Queen._

_Twas in the midst of all this, the new generation of Mages and Knights… took flight._

* * *

><p><em>From the Author: Well... that's all for this installment of Harlaown's Legacy. And to leave you all with a small teaser, the next chapters of this particular story are; "Blazing Stars, Roaring Thunder" and "The Mid-Childan Stinger"<em>

_This has been a sad chapter for the characters... but there is a saying; "What goes down to the ground... can be forced six feet under as well"_

_Hope you liked reading this story, and the next chapters will reveal themselves sometime at the year's end with the next Code Geass installment. _

_I'm off for another journey! Ciao!  
><em>


	2. Blazing Stars, Roaring Thunder

_From the Author: Salutations! Here is the Second installment of Harlaown's Legacy... months ahead of schedule (miraculously)_. _This time, the chapter is more chaotic and messy (as with any situation just after and during a battle). I do hope you, my dear readers, will enjoy this piece of fanficion, and if you have any burning questions... ask or I hopefully can address them at the end of this chapter._

_Onwards! For Time waits for no man!_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Blazing Stars, Roaring Thunder<strong>_

The weeks following the battle of Draco, were marked with small skirmishes all across the border. Minor troop movements that rarely ever required more than anything the Mid-Childan Ground Corps could handle.

But the nation was still reeling from the staggering losses suffered. Her fleets were crippled. Her ground force was sorely reduced in number and fighting strength.

They had lost many great commanders. Good Heroes.

"Troop! Atten...tion! Roared a Captain, "Troop! Present... ARMS!"

_BANG_

Twelve ceremonial guards pulled the triggers on their antique gunpowder rifles, firing into the sky. Moments later, they were joined by the thunderous sound of cannon fire from three aging L-Class warships hanging over the cemetery.

Nanoha Takamachi Harlaown stood in complete and stunned silence. On her right, Fate Testarossa Harlaown, her foster sister, was desperately trying to console their distraught mother, Admiral Lindy Harlaown, whilst holding back the tears that were threatening to burst forth.

But arguably, the most daunting task for the family was being handled by the oldest and only real child of the Harlaowns; Chrono Harlaown.

Numbly taking a shovel from the hands of a congressman, whose shallow words of consolation meant nothing to his family, Chrono began to pile dirt upon the coffin of his father. To help him in his sorrowful and solemn task, was Ensign Richter, the lookout who had delivered Admiral Clyde's last message to Lindy.

As it was, Ensign Richter felt duty bound to help the young man, just as much as most of the survivors to the harrowing Battle felt indebted to Admiral Clyde's act of bravery. But most troops could not be spared these days, and so, only the lookout was present with Captain Hamasaki, who was seated in a wheelchair to Nanoha's left.

Everyone gathered that day though, knew that the coffin was empty. There was no way to recover Admiral Clyde's corpse. Two exploding ships had seen to that. So all that would remain to remind everyone of the great man's existence were the memories of him, and an empty grave.

The conductor of the attending military band gave a signal, and his men immediately began to play a mournful tune.

Nanoha stiffened further. She recognized this as the tune for a song. It was the _Titans' Fall_. A hymn that was sung for all fallen soldiers. At funerals or memorials. But she had never really thought that she would have to hear it so soon for someone whom she cared about.

At the sound of the slow haunting notes of the bugles, Captain Hamasaki finally broke down and started sobbing, her hands clenched tight around her arms as she tried to control herself.

The band continued its duty for a full minute as the song progressed forward, and a few people present sang the hymn quietly. When the song ended, Chrono and Richter had finished with piling in the dirt, and stepped aside to let a squad of ceremonial guards cover Clyde's grave with a single, smooth piece of marble, topped with a simple square marker made of granite. The words engraved upon the stone were simple:

_Clyde Harlaown._

_Hero. Friend. Son. Father. Husband. _

_Loved by all. _

_Gone too soon._

When everything was finally finished, the throngs of people who had come to pay their final respects began to drift away, leaving the Harlaown family with the last soldier to see Clyde alive, and his aide.

As the last of the funeral attendees' back left their lines of sight, Captain Hamasaki bowed as low as she could to Lindy, her voice cracking with guilt and regret, "Forgive me Admiral Lindy, I could not help Admiral Clyde."

Chrono, Fate and Nanoha knew their mother well enough that she had never blamed Hamasaki or Richter in the first place. They knew she would not hold a grudge or lose her temper.

But the woman was far too distraught to tell the expectant Captain Hamasaki Asakura that. Lindy S Harlaown was a weeping mess that could barely stand.

Gripping the trembling shoulder of Hamasaki in the gentlest manner he could, Ensign Richter made eye contact with his fellow Navy officer and lightly shook his head, sending a message to her to let the family have their space.

Snapping a crisp salute to his superior officer and wishing the three children well, Richter guided a thoroughly downcast Hamasaki off to a waiting car that would take her back to the military hospital.

Thinking back on happier days and reflecting on her foster father's final lesson to her before his death, Nanoha found her calling. To defend the innocent and to keep in check the strong, Nanoha decided to become...

* * *

><p>The mining town of Rotherham wasn't a particularly spectacular one. Situated well over a hundred kilometers from the new border between Belka and Mid-Childa, and a long way off from the Belkan's main invasion corridor, Rotherham had little value to justify an attack.<p>

Originally created for the purpose of mining metal ores, Rotherham's deposits were also largely depleted and fewer than a thousand people remained to mine what little was left in the industrial town.

It was the perfect place to train new recruits to the Mid-Childan Army, given the vast and hostile terrain of the area, made worse by the presence of gaping and deep mining holes.

Hence, there was now a full two battalions of men and women present at the town to receive their military training.

"Come on! You can do better than that!" Roared a short, stout instructor, whose pot belly was just starting to show, "You can't serve the nation by being wimps!"

The recruits training under said man did not reply, partly because they were too busy trying not to puke as they crawled through a ditch filled with rotting leftovers from who knew how many meals. No one dared to shoot back a response anyway. The last person to do that had been given an extra four shifts of guard duty and an extra physical training session that landed him in the field hospital.

Now this was not ordinarily the kind of place where one could find two very young ladies. But then again, Nanoha and Fate Harlaown were hardly ordinary girls. Most of the recruits with them were also present because they were identified to have great potential. Theirs, was a batch that was being groomed to become Mid-Childa's new Admirals, Generals and Striker Operatives.

It was a pity that the Sergeants in charge of their training were none too concerned about making their 'elites' feel absolutely miserable.

Nanoha repressed yet another overwhelming urge to eject her lunch as she struggled on through the obstacle course. Just a few meters ahead, was Fate, who looked like she was faring better, if only by a little.

_BLEARGH!_

The recruit to Nanoha's left succumbed to the noxious fumes and began to contribute to the smell. Nanoha winced as a few stray specks of vomit flew past her nose, but continued grimly onwards.

It had only been a month since Nanoha and Fate had gotten to Rotherham, but it already felt like they had been trapped there all their lives. Day after day of regimentation and harsh words from their commanders, with the only source of contact to the outside world being the five minute phone calls they were allotted every end of the week.

"Alright sissies!" Shouted the Sergeant as the last of the recruits dragged themselves out of the stinking ditch, "Today's a special day! What day is today? It's Survival Day!"

More than half of the recruits- the half with the tiniest dregs of energy left in them- cursed under their breaths. Nanoha on the other hand, nearly fainted in terror, and had to lean on a very dirty Fate for support.

Survival Day. It was indeed a very special day in a recruit's training, and it always occurred on the days when the to-be-soldiers least expected it. Happening on any day during the three months of military skills training, Survival Day meant that the recruits would be thrown into random spots all over the training area of Rotherham and be left to fend for themselves for forty eight hours. Alone.

In a forested training sector like Springfield, there was little difficulty in finding something edible or locating a good place to camp with stable water supplies. As a mining district however, Rotherham had few drinkable water spots, and the only food available in the area consisted of rodents, reptiles or if one were desperate enough, the scorpions. Fish in the area were hardly ever seen and far from edible, given all the chemicals that had been dumped into their habitats.

To sum the entire situation up, being as filthy, tired and hungry as they were, Nanoha and Fate knew that they were going to be in hell for the next two days trying to survive Rotherham's unforgiving terrain.

"Well? What are you ladies waiting for?" The instructor leered at his quailing subordinates, "Get on the transports! They'll take you to your five-star hotels."

Unbeknownst to the silently complaining students and their demanding commanders, a lone armored Knight watched them from his concealed perch on the lip of a cliff. With all the stealth he could muster, the Knight sent a telepathic message too his comrades nearby.

_The target has been confirmed. Assault may commence. For Belka!_

* * *

><p>Distant screams and indistinct shouting pierced through the night sky over Rotherham. Some wails, lasting for long, terrible seconds before their origins expired. Others who had more fortune, were silenced with lethal efficiency almost immediately. Across the area, Ground Force Mages were being rallied by desperate commanders for one purpose; to save the cadets under attack from the Belkan ambushers.<p>

Up in the Mid-Childan base's communications tower, distress calls were sent off to every last unit within a hour of their location to render assistance.

Fear and panic were clearly shown on the faces of all the trained soldiers who were rushing towards the battle. It was not merely their own lives at stake. The future of the entire _nation's_ command structure could very well be hanging in the balance. There might have been other officer training grounds, but Rotherham was home to the ones with the most potential.

The audacity and effectiveness of the Belkan ambush also played havoc with the Mid-Childan soldiers' minds. Just how strong were the Belkan soldiers, to have crossed the vast and inhospitable mountain range separating Rotherham from the empire's own border, to mount such a devastating blow against them.

"MOVE!" Screamed a Captain, trying in vain to jerk a shaken Ground Force company into action, "Every second we waste is another lost life!" But no one would budge.

At the sight of one group with faltering morale, the other four companies of garrisoned troops also began to waver.

"Pathetic!" Came a disgusted hiss.

The Captain whirled around to find a squad of Enforcer Mages landing, each cradling Mid-Childa's massive special-operations sniper rifles. Their leader, a Lieutenant whose presence commanded more respect than the Ground Forces Captain, strode forward calmly, and spoke to the gathered soldiers.

"I am Lieutenant Vice Granscenic of the Enforcers Sniper Detachment." He cast a glare at the cowering Captain, "I will be taking over the operation."

"What the hell is four Enforcers gonna do to help us against a Belkan _Army_." Snarled one disgruntled trooper; a Lance Corporal Medic.

Vice chuckled mirthlessly, "Absolutely nothing."

The new and somewhat under-ranked commander's answer stunned the men and women.

The elite sniper looked at the faces of the soldiers gathered before him, "I won't lie. We probably don't stand a chance in a fight with the Belkans. _Especially _if they have a Wolkenritter with them. But I can tell you... I served under Admiral Clyde Harlaown once."

One Private found the courage to speak, "So you would throw our lives for one Admiral's children!"

Vice only laughed, "Not at all. Every soldier who's served with Admiral Clyde would have learned his drive to protect the nation's future. If the Admiral's children die or are already dead, then so be it!"

The Ground Forces soldiers were taken aback by Vice's ferocity.

"But I will _not_ let anyone stand idle to watch as all of Mid-Childa's future fade. As Admiral Clyde and the brave soldiers of the Army, Navy, Enforcers and Strikers did for you and me in the Battle of Draco! Let it be us who put our lives on the line... not merely for the lives of these cadets who will lead us one day... BUT FOR MID-CHILDA!"

Paying no heed as to whether the Ground Forces would actually follow him, Vice took to the skies with his squad of Enforcers, diving straight for the catacombs of Rotherham.

Moments later, the once shaken companies gave a resounding war cry that made the earth tremble. All at once, the company of Belkan Knights that had been engaged in a one-sided slaughter of cadets, found their attention being diverted towards the sound of approaching Mid-Childan soldiers.

One diminutive Knight, swathed in a long, blood red dress, withdrew her war hammer from the cooling body of another victim with a sick _crunch_.

"Ho?" The Knight readjusted her equally red headdress adorned with ridiculously childish looking rabbit dolls on two sides, "It seems that some enemies have found their fighting spirit."

"Should we change targets my Lady Vita?" Whispered a Knight.

The Iron Hammer Knight lazily settled her weapon on her right shoulder and sauntered in the direction of the oncoming Mid-Childans, "No... carry on with your work."

Vita let out a sinister sneer, "I will show these fools how the Wolkenritter fight... before they die!"

From her position deep in the tunnels of a mine, Nanoha T Harlaown was very worried right now. Just an a few minutes ago, the Belkans had launched a surprise attack on their area and she could already feel that roughly a fifth of the officer cadets had been killed or permanently disabled. To add to the girl's worry, her sister, Fate T Harlaown, was currently spewing out alarming levels of magic in an even match against a Knight.

It probably didn't help that Fate and her assailant were smack bang in the middle of an oncoming horde of Mid-Childan reinforcements and one extremely powerful Belkan Knight who was most likely a Wolkenritter intending to wipe out whatever help the cadets were to receive.

Dread suddenly pooled around the back of her neck to the point where it felt like she was burning and Nanoha, obeying her screaming instincts, ducked down low.

A halberd whistled past her head, nearly decapitating Nanoha.

Nanoha leaped back to assess her opponent, a lean but strong looking female Knight garbed with the colors of Belkan Nobility. _Most likely one of the leaders_ Mused the younger, Mid-Childan Mage.

There were times when Nanoha wished she had a personalized magic item like the Enforcers and Strikers. Cadets and Regular units only had standard issue staffs, which could break very easily if put under massive magic strain, as how Nanoha and Fate were especially prone to doing.

The generic staff she carried simply lacked the capacity to focus her vast amount of magic to defeat the Belkan Knight. Not to mention that all Belkan soldiers, save for their cyborg or automated brethren, forged their own weapons.

Nanoha wondered if she had a better chance fighting with just raw magic shots.

With a roar, the Belkan Noble renewed her charge, twirling the halberd like a baton in an attempt to confuse her smaller and younger opponent.

_I must be crazy for trying this... _Nanoha's eyes narrowed as she began to focus on her Belkan foe's movement and summoned her magic into as tight and potent a ball she could muster. _Watch over me... everyone._

Swinging the halberd out of its cycles, the Belkan Knight gave a shout, slashing diagonally from left to right, giving few choices for Nanoha to evade and counter.

Or that was what the Belkan thought.

Nanoha had anticipated the attack. _If I didn't know better... this woman might as well be my sister._ She had been trained in melee combat every day since she could walk with her elder siblings. Her relations to Belkans in the past, only helping to further her family's abilities. The instincts in her were as honed and refined as that in any experienced Belkan Knight.

Spinning with the grace of a dancer, Nanoha swept around the attack and crouched slightly.

Ignoring the look of fury on the Knight's face, the young Mid-Childan whispered a heart-felt apology, and slammed the dense, glowing pink ball of energy in her left hand straight into the Belkan's torso.

Vomiting blood laced bile, the Knight groaned and keeled over in a dead faint, the portion of her armor that had taken Nanoha's hit, a smoking, burnt mess.

Nanoha sighed in relief. She was not quite strong enough or mentally prepared to take lives quite yet.

_HELP ME! NANOHA!_

With a terrified jolt, Nanoha realized that Fate was now caught squarely in the battle between the Wolkenritter and the Mid-Childan reinforcement.

Pumping sheer amounts of raw magic through her legs, Nanoha blasted off towards the battlefield a near supersonic speed, wincing as the air resistance slipped through her rudimentary magic shield and slapped at her face like a thousand needles. Swerving to the left at a fork in the tunnels, Nanoha stretched out a sliver of magic to probe out the fastest route to Fate.

_Right. Left... Left... ah! There's the exit shaft._

Angling herself upwards, Nanoha set off a burst of magic that cushioned her impact against the shaft walls, and pushed herself up with all the momentum she had gained.

To the many fighting soldiers in the deep pits of Rotherham's mines, it was as though someone had shot a blazing star into the sky. The intense color and brightness of pink nearly blinding both Belkan and Mid-Childan. The Wolkenritter's eyes narrowed; she instinctively knew the new entry was something else. Something far from ordinary.

The Belkan Knight assaulting Fate never knew what hit him.

With a loud cry, Nanoha had used her magic once more to push herself downwards, slamming feet first onto the Belkan Knight's shoulder blades.

_SNAP_

The Knight went down instantly and mercifully unconscious.

"Are you alright Fate?" Nanoha grabbed her stunned sister and gave her a once over, looking for any possible injuries, external or internal.

Fate shook the shock out of her system and blubbered, "Of course I'm fine! I can look after my self better than you!"

But as much as the foster sister wanted to continue their conversation, they were forced to split and dodge as four glowing red ball of metal slammed into the spot where they had been standing.

"_Gefängnis der Magi" _Intoned the war hammer, Graf Eisen

"SHIT!" Cursed Vice as his men were thrown back by the expanding field.

Fate and Nanoha suddenly found themselves in a very dark looking and empty version of the mines they had been in. Their only other company, a very angry Wolkenritter.

"It seems that Mid-Childa has Striker candidates in this batch." Vita pointed her weapon at the duo, "It's nothing personal, but you two will have to die. Mid-Childa must not gain your talents."

"_Schwalbefliegen_!" Droned Vita's weapon, and four more metal ball appeared.

_What do we do... Fate... _Nanoha tightened her grip on her flimsy staff and got into a defense stance.

_I... don't know... She's our friend_ Fate too, raised her staff, but refrained from choosing a stance.

"EH!" Shouted Nanoha, confusing the Belkan occupant of the Magic Prison.

Fate grit her teeth and took a calming breath, "Vita... don't you remember who we are?"

"EH! We know her?" Nanoha's head was jerking rapidly from looking at her sister and at the diminutive enemy.

"Like I would know any monsters like you two!" Retorted Vita as she sent her attacks barreling at the Mid-Childan duo, forcing them to evade.

Fate struggled to have her voice heard over the din of exploding earth, "My name is Fate! And Nanoha is over there! We've always played at your house when we were kids! Before the war! Please Vita! STOP!"

The Wolkenritter froze. The names triggering an influx of memories long buried in the march of war. Nanoha too paused as she tried to recall when exactly she had met this fearsome Knight.

"Can you recall now?" Fate timidly took a step towards her former friend, "Vita?"

"So what if we were friends?" Fate recoiled at the venom in Vita's hiss, "You and Nanoha have joined those who sought to destroy us! And for that! Even if we were friends! I WILL KILL YOU!"

The magic enhanced punch from the Wolkenritter sent Fate flying into the walls of the mine. Fate coughed out flecks of blood as a rib fractured.

Before Nanoha could even try to check on her sister, she found herself face to face with the demonic Knight. Vita's blue eyes shone with magic, and her weapon morphed to include a vicious spike at one end, with a rocket booster at the other. Graf Eisen jerked as a single Belkan Magic Cartridge was expended to create the necessary magic force for Vita's next spell.

"Raketenhammer!" Roared Vita, in synch with her Graf Eisen, as she swung the rocket assisted weapon past Nanoha's still forming shield and barely raised staff.

The front of Nanoha's standard issue barrier jacket tore on impact, the edges of Graf Eisen, cutting deep into her torso and glancing past a lower rib.

Screaming in pain, Nanoha fell to the ground.

For a moment, it felt as though time had stood still to Fate as she saw one of her loved ones go down in front of her own eyes. And then, all the girl could see was red. All she could feel was burning hatred and rage.

For the first time, Fate knew she could kill someone.

In a reverse of positions, Vita found herself against the slopes of Rotherham's mines, staring into the yellow and feral eyes of Fate T Harlaown. Said mage, had the Wolkenritter pinned by the throat, the magical energy pouring out from her being of such strength that it sparked and hissed.

_It's like lighting_ Vita realized she was in a very dangerous situation, and swiped at Fate with Graf Eisen, only to hit air as the mage retreated to a safe distance. Summoning more metal balls for her magic attacks, Vita prepared to counter Fate's next moves, only to freeze at the sight of what was forming in front of her eyes.

Fate had formed a single deadly spear of electrically charged magical energy that sparked and sizzled menacingly. Vita tried to move away from the line of fire, but to her surprise, found herself trapped in one of Mid-Childa's patented Restrict Lock spells.

_When did she-_ Vita cursed, "Graf Eisen!"

"_Panzerhindernis"_

A glowing lattice of dense protective magic appeared around Vita as Fate finished her most potent spell.

"I could forgive you if you hurt me..." Fate snarled, her eyes almost slitted like a cat's, "But I can never... ever forgive you... IF YOU TRY TO HURT MY FAMILY!"

Hurling the massive spear of raw magic at Vita, Fate uttered the name of the grand spell.

"Spark... End!"

Even outside the Magic Prison, the rumbling was felt. Sparks of lightning arched across the skies as streaks of the spell poked holes in the prison.

An instant later, the rumble of thunder rattled the fighting soldiers to the bone.

_Did I get her?_ Wondered Fate, as she stared intently at the smoking crater for signs of life.

Fate was thrown back violently as a thoroughly enraged Vita came barreling out of the cracked earth to punch the Mid-Childan.

"It'll take a lot more than that to finish a _Yagami_!" Vita's visage was contorted to a point where she hardly looked like a young girl anymore. Fate noted with some satisfaction though, that she had at least succeeded in cutting a deep gash in the Wolkenritter's side, indicating that her spell had pierced the legendary Belkan shield spell.

_I... can't move..._ Fate cursed. Spark End was a magic technique which she had only intended to ever use when she made a customized magic item. Glancing at the generic magic staff, she could already see the many cracks in it's core from the tiny amount of channeling she had done. Forcing her own body to purify some of the electrically based magic had been a bad idea too. She was now too exhausted to fight any further.

But Vita had other things to worry about than a tired Fate.

Tiny specks of free magical energy that had been thrown around in the battle had begun to coalesce into visible flecks, like dust floating in the air.

It was a phenomenon that no one really knew about, and for some strange reason that Vita could not fathom, each pinprick of light scared her more than the massive magic attack she had received from Fate.

As one, the specks of light began shooting towards a single point like tiny shooting stars, contributing to a growing ball of pure, destructive magical energy.

Crouching painfully beneath the increasingly dangerous looking ball of magic, was Nanoha.

Vita felt her knees go weak in fear in spite of herself, "What _are_ you? How- How is this even possible!"

Nanoha smiled weakly, a small wince crossing her features as her wounds twinged, "We've been throwing a lot of magic around... so I thought... why not gather it all back together... and use it?"

_That's an Area Bombardment spell... There's no way I can avoid getting hit_ Vita bit her lip so hard that it bled.

It was proof that the Wolkenritter, knew nothing of Nanoha.

With the softest of whispers, Nonoha uttered the name of a spell that would be remembered as one of the greatest in the future. A spell that would be feared. One to be respected as a simply... awe-inspiring act of magic.

"Starlight... Breaker."

Both sides of the conflict in Rotherham were forced to duck for cover as howling gusts tore through the tunnels and pits of the land. As for the Enforcers fighting outside the Magic Prison, they witnessed a towering beam of pink magic energy shoot straight into the sky, tearing an unfortunate cloud to pieces before detonating in mid-air, creating a miniature sun that lasted for easily a minute.

Not built to withstand such power, the Belkan spell disintegrated in a shower of black shards, revealing the three combatants within.

_Well I'll be damned... _Vice had to stop and stare at the two cadets who had managed to make their Wolkenritter enemy look like a roasted turkey.

Snapping off a quick shot at a Belkan Knight who was trying to sneak up on her leader, Vice's aide floated down beside him to give a report, "Good news Vice. The Fourth Company managed to save about six hundred recruits from Mining Sectors Three through Fourteen."

Distracted, Vice took his attention off the trio momentarily to face his subordinate, "A third of the students... not the best result, but better than we had hoped."

The aide's grin broadened, "It gets better... the First Training Fleet is coming in a minute. They're armed to the teeth with live rounds and one new LS-Class warship."

"Then we've won this round." Vice smirked, switching to an open communications frequency for the entire sector, "This is Lieutenant Vice Granscenic of the Mid-Childan Forces! In moments, elements of the Mid-Childan Fleets will arrive, with reinforcement and fire support... To all Belkans... retreat or stay to die... it's your choice."

Vita was loathe to have to listen to her enemy, but she knew when she was faced with a lost cause; the Ground Forces were proving to be rather tenacious rather than being utter cowards. Her aide had apparently been taken out by a mysterious attacker, who was more than likely one of the girls she had fought. Cursing every step of the way and nursing some of her magic related burns, Vita signaled for the retreat.

In moments, the last Belkan had disappeared into the night, leaving the Mid-Childans with a monstrous morgue.

By the time the final head count had be confirmed, nearly Eight hundred of the cadets had lost their lives in the attack, and four hundred more were in danger of being permanently disabled.

There was a silver lining in that dark cloud though; Mid-Childa had found another forty four trainees who had fought off the Knights and protected their fellow cadets. Even better, apart from Fate and Nanoha, who had to be hospitalized for their wounds, three others showed signs of great skill in the magic arts. They were potential additions to the shrunken ranks of the Strikers.

* * *

><p>Ensign Richter could not deny that he was ecstatic to find out his former commander's children had survived. He could not deny that he was relieved that Mid-Childa had people who could carry on their fallen heroes' legacy. But he was also very suspicious of how the attack could have happened in the first place.<p>

Rotherham's importance as an elite training ground was a fact that even he did not know until after the attack. Only Captains, and the soldiers stationed in the area were supposed to be aware of the area's trainees.

Richter also knew that Mid-Childa, though comparatively weak in combat, was the true master of information in the war. Their intelligence and its security were top notch. Belka had never been able to steal any critical intelligence from them in the entire war, from their encryption codes, to their key installation locations.

It could only mean one thing; there were moles in the system.

Deferring to chain of command like any good soldier, Richter had chosen to report his suspicions to his immediate superior officer; Captain Hamasaki Asakura, who was residing in her humble home to recover from her wounds before returning to take command of her own vessel of the _Valiant_.

A vessel that would take its place in the new Fifth Fleet that had been christened the Harlaown Fleet in honor of the great admiral who had commanded it.

So Richter found himself seated at a coffee table, speaking to Captain Hamasaki about the issue at hand.

"I don't really see what worries you so Richter." Hamasaki let out a gentle smile.

Richter arched an eyebrow in shock, "But Asakura! How can this _not_ worry me? We obviously have a leak somewhere!"

At that point, Richter should have listened to his screaming instincts that something was terribly wrong and left, but he foolishly stood his ground.

Hamasaki laughed softly. Her chuckles sounded so innocent and melodic to Richter, but at the same time, it felt so very sinister. "I do know that we have a leak Richter... that's why you don't have to worry anymore."

"But if you know, why aren't you doing anything about it?" Richter's hand inched slowly towards his sidearm pouch, his right hand slowly grasping the hilt of his army-issue magic pistol. It seemed impossible... Hamasaki was a student hand-picked by Admiral Clyde himself. But why did it feel like she had turned on her own allies? Her own teacher?

Ensign Richter suddenly found himself pinned to the wall by a miraculously healthy Hamasaki Asakura, who stood tall on both legs as though they had never been damaged.

"_Why?_" Wheezed Richter even as he fought to loosen the woman's unerringly strong grip, "You would betray Admiral Clyde's trust?"

The living room suddenly looked hazy, as though it were underwater. With the gentle tinkle of shattering glass, the room righted itself once more, and to Richter's horror, he found the room changed.

Lying spread-eagled in the corridor from the bedroom to the living room, in a dried pool of blood, was the long dead corpse of Captain Hamasaki Asakura. Her eyes having lost their energy for a long time, stared downwards at the wound in her chest, where a distinctly Belkan Dagger was still embedded.

"Do you see now?" The fake Hamasaki spoke with false gentility as it raised another Belkan Dagger, "Ensign Richter?"

With a cry, Richter kicked out with all his might, his hands, diving for his weapon.

Alas, the Belkan imposter seemed not to feel the hits, and drove the dagger into Ensign Richter's heart.

As life faded from his eyes, Richter continued to glare at the fake _How dare you... how dare you wear the face of the one... the one I... Hamasaki..._

With a choked sigh, Ensign Richter Hampton died.

Dropping the dead man on the ground, the fake paused when it saw a small box fall out Richter's uniform pocket. Bending gracefully to pick up the box, the Belkan examined it's contents.

It was a simple silver ring.

_I prefer silver... it's a hardier material after all... and inexpensive_ The Belkan spy took a moment to recall this tidbit of information that she had gained from reading the dead Hamasaki's memories.

"This is not worth reporting to the commanders..." The Belkan sighed monotonously and moved to dispose of the box.

Her hands shivered in hesitation.

With a slight frown marring her all too perfect face, the Belkan applied more force, crushing the box, "I must destroy all the other evidence..."

Silently, the spy activated a Belkan fire spell that would burn the corpses and prepared another spell that would burn the entire building when she left.

To her surprise, she found a single droplet of water sliding down her left eye. _Why am I releasing fluids..._ she could not understand. She was programmed not to feel. She was one of Belka's most advanced Cyborgs. Satisfied that she had performed to standards, the imposter swept out the door quickly to allow for the spell to initiate, and to prepare a cover story for herself.

Outside the house, a storm came, and began to rage all over Mid-Childa...

* * *

><p><em>The Battle of Rotherham maintained a relatively low profile in the overall news of Mid-Childa for casualties had become common place, and the nation had greater issues of concern. <em>

_Belka however, was worried... and rightly so, for in the coming years... They would learn to fear and respect the Officers of Rotherham; the brave students who so distinguished themselves with courage and tenacity in the face of certain death._

_Mid-Childa_

_Overall Commander: Lieutenant Vice Granscenic (Promoted to rank of Captain)_

_Sub-Commanders: 2nd Lieutenant Milly Woodsworth (Promoted to Lieutenant)_

_Enforcer Sniper Squad XXI: 4 (Including Officers Vice and Milly)_

_Ground Mages Corp Companies Alpha to Echo: 587 (102 Killed-In-Action, 31 Wounded-In-Action)_

_Mid-Childan Officer Cadet Battalions XV & XVI: 2210 (774 Killed-In-Action, 801 Wounded-In-Action)_

_Navy Corp: 145 _

_Flagships: Moratorium_

_Fleet Vessels: 2 _

_Belka_

_Overall Commander: Knight of the Iron Hammer, Yagami Vita (Wounded-In-Action)_

_Sub-Commander: Knight of the Crimson Glow, Evan Blaise_

_Knights Assault Company CLVII: 131 (14 Killed-In-Action, 66 Wounded-In-Action)_

_Outcome_

_Decisive Belkan Victory_

_Belkan Archive Records (MP-199-101-444/MP-199-101-445)*^_

_**MP-199-101-444**:_

_Name: Nanoha Takamachi Harlaown_

_Age: 12_

_Gender: Female_

_Military Rank : Striker Officer Cadet_

_Magic Rank: A+ (Unconfirmed capability for S-Ranking)_

_Allegiance: Mid-Childa_

_Summary: _

_What little that is known of Officer Cadet Nanoha T Harlaown's history is that she was the biological daughter of Senator Shiro Takamachi and Momoko Takamachi, who perished in the crossfire of the initial Mid-Childan assault into Belka. She was then formally adopted by now deceased Admiral Clyde Harlaown and then Major Lindy S Harlaown._

_Unique in her upbringing, the main differentiating factor of the Officer Cadet is that she was raised in Belka, and therefore, exposed to our fighting techniques and strategies from a very young age, giving her a crucial advantage over our forces._

_Notably present in major skirmishes even though she is still officially in training, the Officer Cadet has also displayed ranged magic control unheard of in any other Mid-Childan, and even exceeding the skills of many elite Knights._

_This therefore allows the Officer Cadet to utilize her signature spells known only as Starlight Breaker and Divine Buster. It is also noted that all units have been informed to withdraw immediately upon seeing this person begin the spell to form a Starlight Breaker. Further, should the Officer Cadet enter the field, all personnel have been cautioned to refrain from utilizing heavy magic attacks as the subject in question seems to be able to turn that spent energy against our own troops._

_Nicknamed the Ace of Aces by her peers and bestowed the title of Knight of the Blazing Stars by Knight Yagami Vita, the Officer Cadet is feared by her enemies and loved by her allies for her capability in rallying forces and in her fighting prowess._

_To conclude, the subject is highly dangerous and should be eliminated with extreme prejudice if possible._

_**MP-199-101-445**:_

_Name: Fate Testarossa Harlaown_

_Age: 12_

_Gender: Female_

_Military Rank : Enforcer Officer Cadet_

_Magic Rank: S _

_Allegiance: Mid-Childa_

_Summary: _

_Yet another adopted child of the Harlaown family, Officer Cadet Fate T Harlaown was a child of one Precia Testarossa; although the circumstances of her birth are still unknown given that her mother was single and had no notable relationships with a male._

_The subject does however, possess the same knowledge as Officer Cadet Nanoha T Harlaown in that she too, was raised for a period of time in Belka._

_Officer Cadet Fate on the other hand, does not display a skill in using ranged combat effectively against Belkans, but has instead learned melee techniques to counter our more distinguished moves._

_The subject's magic reserves are far larger than a normal Mid-Childan's, which is what allows her to use her Spark End spell or her less concentrated Phalanx Shift attacks. The subject's magic signature is also one of the few that are capable of causing sufficient friction with the air to produce lightning, earning her the title of The Knight of Roaring Thunder from Knight Yagami Vita. Her calm demeanor on the battlefield and her ruthlessness towards all who dare to break the peace (Both Belkan and Mid-Childan) have also lead to many knowing of her as the Icy Enforcer._

_Still, what distinguishes the subject most easily is her non-standard issue magic protection attire, which has apparently been tailored to her preference for high speed fighting. Despite her apparent lack of communication with her colleagues, her presence also seems to instill a sense of discipline in both superiors and juniors alike._

_To conclude, the subject is highly dangerous and should be eliminated with extreme prejudice wherever possible._

_*This information may not be accurate given possibility of obsoletion. For further details on the subjects, more reports must be made to correct the current reports._

_^ These reports are filed under the series MP-199-101 (For the Harlaown Family) Any changes to the subjects' marital statuses will cause the new reports to be filed under different classifications._

* * *

><p><em>From the Author: Okay... I hope you dear readers have enjoyed this installment of Harlaown's Legacy, as saddening and dark as the story may be at the moment.<em>

_On the topic of the OCs present... Well, I wanted the lookout (Ensign Richter Hampton R.I.P.) to have an identity rather than die a nameless grunt (Too much feelings of pity). As for our dearly departed Captain? Well... She kind of lives on in the fake; in a way. Then people might ask about Enforcer Milly Woodsworth and Dame Evan Blaise... they aren't important... yet.  
><em>

_But on a brighter note, "The Mid-Childan Stinger" is coming along slowly, and it _may_ shed some light to the darkness and confusion. Keep your fingers crossed._

_Now... the journey must continue! Au Revoir!_


	3. The MidChildan Stinger

_From the Author: Okay, I've made many resolutions this year. One of them is to never promise on things I cannot deliver. But that does not mean I'm completely stopping fanfiction. Its just going to be a lot slower. In any case, this is the final bit of Harlaown's Legacy... hope you can enjoy this without cracking too many brain cells..._

* * *

><p><em><strong>The Mid-Childan Stinger<strong>_

"Scramble every last thing in this base that can fly!" Shouted Admiral Damian Wolfgang, as frenzied officers rushed around him to get to their ships, "What the hell were the border patrols doing! Letting a bloody Cradle _this _close to Hastings!"

The sole surviving Admiral of the Battle of Draco had every right to panic. Cradles had their sinister reputation for turning any area targeted into blackened craters and Hastings was not a city that Mid-Childa wanted Belka to destroy, period.

Hastings, the primary shipyard of the Mid-Childan Navy, was responsible for constructing nearly Sixty percent of the nation's warships, and presided over the development of the first proper counter to the Belkan Cradle; the LS-Class Warship.

Losing such an important facility would undoubtedly cripple Mid-Childa's already ailing fleet, and ensure their Navy's doom.

Chrono Harlaown however, was far from satisfied by the current battle deployments. As a Navy Cadet, Chrono was called on to help in the effort to halt the Belkan war cruiser's advance, but in a very different way from his fully qualified colleagues. He was stuck on the _Stinger_, one of Mid-Childa's prototype X-Class Battleships that promised to be an even better weapon to use against a Cradle.

But rather than see combat, the crew of the _Stinger_, like Chrono, were preparing to take in casualties for treatment. The great X-Class vessel had been converted into a massive mobile medical fortress.

Why Admiral Damian had chosen to do so was also not without a good measure of logic; apart from the other Cadets with Chrono, no one else had been trained to use an X-Class ship yet. It was supposed to have good armor that was based on the Cradle's own plating, and it boasted two Arc'en'ciel cannons rather than one, But in the hands of rookies against ships that were only crewed by the best Belka had to offer, Admiral Damian would practically be handing the X-Class over on a silver platter.

So the son of Legendary Admiral Clyde had to be content with watching the battle feeds and play Executive Commander to Captain Asakura Hamasaki.

Glancing nervously at his superior officer, Chrono could not help but feel a bit of pity for the woman. Her story of tragedy was so well known to the Mid-Childan press that several press companies were already clamoring to interview her.

Captain Hamasaki had been in given command of a vessel, the _Gallantry_, for her efforts and role in the Battle of Draco. Sadly, she lost even that privilege when her fiancee had been brutally murdered and her house burned to cinders by Belkan assassins who were aiming to kill every last Mid-Childan veteran of that battle.

The former aide to Clyde Harlaown was stripped of her appointments due to lack of confidence by the Admiralty in her mental stability. And where Captain Hamasaki was supposed to be aboard the _Gallantry_, now sat another nameless captain.

Now the gaunt and haunted looking woman was slumped in the sparse Captain's chair of the X-Class, looking to the whole world like a corpse rather than a bright woman who was once known for her enthusiastic command style.

Throughout the rest of the Bridge, the tension was high enough to make lesser men lose their bowel control. None of them were battle tested and were afraid of what the Cradle could do, even with it being outnumbered Thirty to One.

Chrono understood their fear. He had seen the power of the Cradles first hand when the first Belkan counterattacks began to strike Mid-Childan soil. As a mere Cadet who was being hustled away from the military academy lying on the outskirts of Draco, he had seen a Belkan flagship, _Fiery Dawn_, unleash a port broadside into the D-Class' supposedly impenetrable shield.

That unfortunate vessel that had been trying to slow the Belkan advance towards Draco for the defenders to prepare themselves, had disappeared instantly, leaving no trace of itself or her crew.

Another major issue with the coming battle was the lack of LS-Classes on the Mid-Childan side. Apart from Admiral Damian's _Fortitude_, there were no other LS-Classes around. The _Fortitude_ was the last of the initial five made in the first batch, and her predecessors had already been totaled in the Battle of Draco.

Twenty more LS-Classes were well on their way to completion, but they hardly even had their point defense guns installed, much less the Arc'en'ciel cannons that were needed to properly pierce a Cradle's armor and sink it.

In other words, the entire course of the battle was to be determined by whether the Twenty Nine attendant vessels of the _Fortitude_ were capable of protecting her. Comprising mainly of D-Classes and L-Classes, with a smattering of the older E-Classes, it seemed easy enough, but Chrono knew better.

No Cradle was ever missing her most dreaded Main Cannon. A weapon so terrifying that even the Belkans didn't think they could properly name it to reflect its sheer destructive power. Every cadet who had been trained after the start of the war knew all about the Main Cannon's specifications.

With a charge time of Fifteen minutes, and a power requirement so large that the Cradle even had to stop maneuvering, the Main Cannon could yield a fireball ten kilometers in diameter, along with shock waves that could travel as far as twenty kilometers from the blast epicenter.

Mid-Childa's Arc'en'ciel Cannon could charge up in Five minutes at most, and did not have power requirements like the Main Cannon. It was designed with penetrating power in mind rather than sheer destruction, so the blast was at worst, somewhat small at a little over a five hundred meters in diameter, fireball and all.

_All things considered_, mused the young Cadet, _this fight is going to be tight. The Belkan's have surely learned their lesson from Draco to counter our Arc'en'ciel Cannons, just as we have learned how to fight against the Cradle better._

"The _Fortitude_ has lifted off" Reported Amy Limietta, the Combat-In-Control and Communications cadet, "The Hastings defense fleet is forming up around her in standard formation Sigma!"

Calling up a screen onto the bridge module's view-ports, Chrono surveyed the battle with a critical eye, calculating the odds of their side winning. Glancing back at his commander, Chrono caught sight of Captain Hamasaki keying a command into her console that yielded no visible effect, _Odd..._

"Defense Fleet is entering firing range!"

Four kilometers from the X-Class' position, the Mid-Childan array of ships let loose a mighty volley of energy and projectiles at the oncoming Cradle as one. So great was the discharge of magic energy, the people of Hastings had to cover their eyes for a brief moment to shield themselves from the glare.

"Ninety percent hits on enemy Cradle!" Crowed Amy, "That should have taken it's shields down by about Five percent!"

Chrono cut off the growing cheers from the crew almost immediately, "Don't take this as our victory yet! Never celebrate until we're sure that Cradle is a smoking crater!"

_Rumble_

It was a tremor that no one was quite expecting and the last Son of the Harlaown family, though perplexed, had a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what caused the shaking.

"HOLY!" Cried Griffith, a helmsman.

Past the X-Class' view-ports, the Mid-Childan Defense fleet formation was in a complete shambles. On either side of the _Fortitude_, her two standard D-Class attendants were listing to port and the flickering quality of their engines suggested that both were in imminent danger of sinking.

But the loss of D-Classes was hardly the gist of the problem. For some unfathomable reason, the Cradle had somehow managed to sink Five ships in a single volley, including Admiral Damian's attending vessels.

Everyone in Mid-Childa knew how badly outclassed they were compared with the Belkan war technology, but even the Cradle needed to use sustained fire on a D-Class vessel to sink it. It just was not possible to destroy the D-Class in one shot, given her incredibly tough shields.

Hence, only one conclusion was left to be made.

"Our ships' shields have all been sabotaged!" Shrieked Amy, even as the sensation of panic spread further in the ranks of Mid-Childan sailors all over Hastings, "And we're just broadcasting our position to the Cradle! It knows where we are!"

Chrono Harlaown was not in the mood to be concerned with his ailing superior officer at the moment, he had far greater things to be worried about, "GET THAT VIRUS OR WHATEVER IT IS OUT OF THE MAINFRAMES NOW! COMMS! SEND OUT THE WORD TO ALL SHIPS IN THE FLEE- SHIT!"

The young Naval Cadet would never be more thankful to his father for teaching him some melee skills along with strategy. In the moment he had started to dole out orders, Captain Hamasaki had suddenly reached into her voluminous Captain's cloak and drawn a dagger, before lunging right at her junior with a liberal dose of ill intent.

Even with his honed reflexes, Chrono barely managed to dodge the menacing blade, which came close to separating his head from the rest of his body.

"WHA-?" Any other words Chrono had intended to use to express his shock dried up instantly as he recognized what exactly his Captain was doing and what she held in her right hand.

Captain Asakura Hamasaki had never fully recovered from her shattered knees in the Battle of Draco, and was supposed to have a slight slouch in her stature to get better balance for the remainder of her days. But this woman standing before him stood tall and proud, the picture of a perfect soldier. One who was holding very tightly onto a distinctly Belkan Dagger.

"Wh-Why?" Amy's voice shook with shock and fear, "Why are you helping the Belkans? Captain!"

Chrono yanked out his own magic device, the _S2U_ and glared calculatingly at the woman standing before him. Belkans were not the type to wear the faces of their fallen enemies, given that it was considered dishonorable for a Knight to do so. But it was a very different case for the Belkan War Droids.

Belka's bulk of military forces were now comprised primarily of Combat Cyborg units. Most, as the Mid-Childan military had the misfortune of experiencing, were fearsome humanoids that could resist Magic to a certain degree thanks to their Anti-Magic Fields. It did not help the Mid-Childan Army one bit that the Combat Cyborgs were so hardy and heavily overpowered by their internal computer programming that destroying the brains in a machine hardly slowed it down or deterred it from its course of action.

One could consider it a sort of irony; that the critically wounded of Belka or the practically dead bodies of both sides were simply sucked into the Belkan war production machine to be churned out as cannon fodder with no say of their own.

Chrono tightened his grip on his weapon. Partly out of self-disgust, and partly out of revulsion towards his enemy, "By my guess... you're some kind of new War Droid designed to perfectly imitate us... am I right?"

"It is precisely due to the discerning nature of your family and your cohorts that we were created and deployed," The droid shifted its stance, placing the sharp dagger in a curious high guard stance that seemed more suited to a long sword fight, "My programming requires me to ensure the complete annihilation of all officers who took part in the Battle of Draco, with their relatives being secondary targets."

Wasting no more time in banter, 'Asakura' threw herself forward, the Belkan Dagger swinging in a hypnotic arc over her head before she brought it crashing down onto Clyde's hasty guard.

"Don't just stand there and gawk morons!" Chrono grunted, as he struggled to keep the android's monstrous strength from sending himself flying, "SHOOT HER DOWN!"

Braking out of her shock first, Amy drew a service weapon, a magic pistol that technically lacked the necessary firepower to actually kill the droid and snapped off two quick shots. Both blue bolts impacted square in between the false Captain's back, catapulting her towards a waiting Chrono, who just had enough time to prepare a bind spell that would give him the needed space to cast a strong enough spell to subdue 'Asakura'.

Making a mental note to thank Amy for her amazing marksmanship after the battle was over, Chrono let out an almighty roar, "Struggle Bind!"

Try as the fake might, it would never break the Struggle Bind spell. It was designed to be more restrictive the more powerful an opponent was. And 'Asakura' was just not one of those few individuals who were so powerful as for the spell to be unable to contain her.

Bring the business end of _S2U_ to bear on the fake's face, at point blank range, Chrono gathered the magic energy he would need for his grandest spell.

"_Sting Execution Shift... FIRE!_" With the force of a crashing car apiece, the stream of twenty magic spears slammed into the immobile War Droid one after another, badly bruising and breaking her limbs. Chrono might have been scolded severely if he had used such an attack on a normal person no matter friend or foe, but the situation seemed dire enough and the cyborg was not entirely fragile either.

Tumbling through the air like a grotesque marionette, 'Asakura's' flight was cut short when she impacted against a communications console with a sickening _crunch,_ leaving her thoroughly embedded in the sparking remnants of said machine.

Inching cautiously up to the downed spy/assassin, Chrono jabbed the _S2U_ none too gently into the fake's chest, fully prepared to blast its heart or whatever it had out.

Rather than whimpering in pain like any other human would do, the cyborg merely stared dully into Chrono's eyes.

"Amy? Any progress on the virus thing?" Chrono called back, not once taking his own eyes off his opponent's.

The _Stinger's _Communications Cadet sent a smug smile over, "Already done! You'll be happy to know that the Defense Fleet's shields are coming back online. I've even removed the stupid tracer on our ship!"

"Admiral Damien is finishing the Arc'en'ciel charge sequence!" Shouted Griffith, "I can see the weapon array preparing to fire."

Past the _Stinger's_ view-ports, the Cradle hurled a volley at the _Fortitude_, desperately trying to prevent its own destruction. Alas, four more D-Class vessels had interposed themselves between their flagship and the enemy. With full shields on, the Cradle had no chance of sinking the Mid-Childan LS-Class Cruiser in time.

Victory was assured!

"Shields aren't the only thing that a person can sabotage young one." Chrono was startled by 'Asakura's' cool and confident tones. _What on earth had she meant by tha- _OH SHIT_!_

Locking the assassin in another struggle bind, Chrono lunged for Amy's communications device, all the while screaming, "TELL ADMIRAL DAMIEN NOT TO FIRE! STOP HIM! NOW!"

Amy was well trained enough to follow what was going on and immediately jammed her pointer finger on the transmit button, lips rapidly moving to form the words that would leave her mouth and be carried to the flagship.

But even if the message had gotten out to the Admiral, it would have been too late. The firing sequence was already too far gone to be halted, and because of the spy's meddling, disaster was about to strike.

All Arc'en'ciel cannons... or for the matter any energy based device utilized capacitors that would store and release the appropriate amount of energy for a given task or target. In the _Fortitude's_ unfortunate case however, the programs in charge of said capacitors were simply but effectively _deleted_. To put simply, the Arc'en'ciel cannon was going into overload since the stored energy could not be channeled properly.

An even larger quake rocked the _Stinger_ as the _Fortitude_ blew up in a gigantic fireball that consumed the four D-Classes defending it.

Cries of dismay ripped through the X-Class' bridge as Amy collapsed numbly on her knees. Roaring in rage, Chrono swung his fist into a railing with a loud clang.

Taking advantage of the enemy's confusion, the Belkan Cradle fired a volley into the exposed flank of a Lancer-class, sending it down to the ground in flames. Now only Eighteen ships were left to protect Hastings where there had been Thirty. And worse still, there were no Arc'en'ciel armed ships left...

"Th... Colonel And...son of the Tenth Fle- _Boom-_" The communications came alive, "I ord... evacuate the city... head for Graham city... repea... -_rumble-..._ retreat..."

"No..." Chrono growled, "If we retreat now we're sitting ducks for the Main Gun!"

"Then what do you want us to do?" Countered Griffith, his face reddening in anger and fear, "Charge the Cradle ourselves!"

At the look of determination lining Chrono's face, Griffith's beet red went parchment white. But he wasn't the only one.

"That would be suicide!" Shouted a weapons officer cadet.

"Were not going to do some damned kamikaze shit like your dad did!" Screamed an ensign.

"Madness!"

"Glory Hound!"

Amy fired a round into the ground, effectively shutting the growing furore up. Glaring heatedly at her colleagues, Amy pushed herself up onto quivering legs, standing as upright as she could, "Chrono's right! We don't _have_ a choice. We have to fight or we'll all die!"

Griffith Lowran hitched his glasses up in a clear sign that he was stressed, "It's all easier said than done... and even then... how are we going to deal with the Cyborg while we attack the Cradle? We need it to find out if there are more spies in Mid-Childa, but it might kill _us_ before we kill the enemy!"

"Of that... I can assure you of non-aggression in this endeavor Cadet Lowran." The bridge crew nearly jumped out of their skins when 'Asakura' suddenly spoke up from her binds, "Other mission parameters of mine include the destruction of _Lodernde Wolken_, the Cradle that flies before you now. If you can succeed in aiding Belka by destroying that ship... then I will not interfere."

Chrono strode up the the injured Belkan and jammed his staff into an open wound in her leg, "You expect us to believe that bullshit? Why would Belka want it own _Cradle_ destroyed. I know how much one of those monsters costs... there's no way-"

The cyborg gave an eerily human-like shrug and a melancholic smile, "To believe me or not to... that is your choice, Son of Clyde."

"Um... Chrono?" The young man swung his head around to face Amy, "The shields on the Cradle are... they're going offline..."

"They could be trying to charge their Main Gun faster." Snarled Griffith, "You can't trust this damned _machine_ can you Chrono!"

But trap or not, there was no choice. Chrono could see the Main Gun of the _Lodernde Wolken_ start to take a sinister hue as the charging sequence was initiated and the ship's maneuvering thrusters went deadly silent.

They only had fifteen minutes to act now and it was definitely not enough to escape the Cradle's firing range.

Feeling foolish to turn his back on a Combat Cyborg, Chrono Harlaown stepped up to the Captain's chair, contemplated it for a moment... and finally sat down.

"I'm taking over as Captain of the _Stinger._" Chrono glared at each Cadet in turn, daring them to challenge his authority, "We will now commence offensive operations on the _Lodernde Wolken_. By our hands... we will save Hastings... _we must!_"

Amy clambered back into her seat and smiled threateningly at her subordinates, "We're right behind you Captain Harlaown!"

"Urgh! Fine! But I don't want to have to do some crazy flight maneuver just yet!" Griffith hopped back into his steering control seat.

Grumbling about how insane the task ahead of them was, the remainder of the Bridge crew dragged themselves back to their posts. But even if their minds were still resisting the call to arms, their bodies knew well enough that the situation they were in was do or die.

And no one was quite eager to die just yet.

"Helmsman!" Chrono's voice echoed strongly over the heads of his command, "Give me full speed! I don't want that Cradle to know we're there till its a burning heap!"

With an ear-splitting screech, the _Stinger_ tore out of her tethers and into the skies of Hastings on a direct course for the_ Lodernde Wolken._

The communications console crackled to life once more, and for a fleeting moment, Chrono thought the Colonel was about to call them in on their mutiny.

"This is Major Reaver Davis, Captain of the _Seraphim_! We of the First Fleet Remnant will provide cover fire!" Chrono stared out of the X-Class' view-ports in surprise as three vessels tore away from the retreating Defense Fleet to form a protective formation in front of them.

Amy's second in command, Lucino Lilie piped up, "Lancer-Class, _Seraphim,_ has entered a _Delta_ pattern defense formation directly to our bow! IFF readings identify the D-Class escorts as the _Cherubim _andthe _Angelium_!"

"Those are what's practically left of the Battle of Draco..." Griffith added his own two cents into the conversation.

Chrono winced. As much as the help from the war veterans was appreciated, he was still squeamish about risking their hides to protect the city. And Griffith was right on that aspect. All of the senior officers who had taken part in that horrible battle had indeed died over the months as the year had gone by. In fact, the fake's confession of her objectives made the gave deaths in Mid-Childa an unnerving deal of sense.

Keying himself into a dedicated line to the Major, Chrono spoke as calmly as he could, "You have my thanks Sir. Would you like to take comman-"

"We hardly need a lot of these formalities in this sort of situation lad!" Came the reply, laced with strained levity, "Just command the ship to the best of your ability and get it into the position you want! We're just here to make sure you make it!"

Smiling slightly at Major Reaver's cavalier attitude, Chrono returned his attention to his waiting troops, "Shunt all charge to the port-side Arc'en'ciel Cannon! We want to kill the Cradle as fast as possible! Helm! Can you slide us under the damned thing?"

Griffith barked out a laugh, "And here I thought you would want me to do an Scissors! Slide under that big lug? Easy as walking!"

"Shields up full! All guns are to concentrate their fire around our Arc'en'ciel guns and whatever the _Seraphim _lets through!" Chrono tightened his grip on the hand-rests of the chair in preparation of what was to come, "Leave our flanks and rear to the other escorts! Let's sink that monster!"

With a roar, the engines of the motley assortment of Mid-Childan ships came alive, sending them charging in at the Belkan Cradle.

As though acknowledging the presence of the X-Class as the greatest threat, the _Lodernde Wolken_ let loose a thunderous volley from its bow oriented cannons, the dangerous shots bypassing the _Seraphim_ and impacting against the _Stinger's_ shield with a loud _crack_.

"Shields holding up at Eighty percent!" Jeered an engineering officer, "Hah! It'll a lot take more than that to sink the _Stinger_!"

But as though the Belkan Warship sensed the slight against it, the _Lodernde Wolken_ began to disgorge wave upon wave of what looked like specks from the distance. Any crewman on the four ships worth their uniforms knew what those were and more than one war veteran had to wince slightly in apprehension.

Combat Drones: the less complex but equally dangerous counterpart to the Belkan Combat Cyborg, came screaming down at the _Stinger_ in droves, heedless of the brutal and synchronized volleys being lobbed at them from the _Seraphim_. As two squadrons passed through the fearsome Lancer's fire, Fifteen drones burst into flame as they failed to evade in time.

Nine remaining fighters however, charged through the debris of their fallen brethren and let loose all their missiles in one concentrated burst.

Whirring to life, the point defense systems of the _Stinger _began to pick off the numerous projectiles in an effort to conserve the battleship's shield energy. Humming with serene power, the _Angelium_ too, made a slight angle in to starboard, embracing the larger, more advanced ship in her protective shields.

Registering a lack of ammunition and the presence of the heavy D-Class ship, the three flights of Combat Drones went into a wild spiral, their targeting computers plotting out weak spots in the D-Class shields, utilizing their anti-magic fields to brush past the heavy defenses before making a death dive at the _Stinger_.

More than one bridge member reared back in fear when a single drone made it past the _Stinger's_ defense guns to impact solidly against the bridge module bubble's shield in a massive fireball.

"Concentrate men!" Shouted Chrono, even as he gripped his hand-rests so hard that his knuckles turned white, "We don't want to be sunk by the Cradle! We want to sink _it_!"

"Charge at Sixty percent!" Amy shouted out from her workstation, relaying the report from the Arc'en'ciel weapons room, "We'll reach the minimum charge of Ninety percent in exactly Forty seconds!"

Griffith grunted in exertion as he punched in yet more commands into his maneuvering console, sending the _Stinger _into a short dive that sent her skimming across the treetops of the forest just outside of Hastings. Scant seconds later, Major Reaver ordered his vessels into a new formation over the X-Class, completely shielding it from the view of the Cradle.

As though screaming in fury, the Cradle let loose another volley from her guns located all around her rim, struggling to hit her adversaries.

Chrono had to laugh when the dangerous beams of energy simply smashed uselessly into the ground astern of the ship. There was a good reason for risking the enemy barrage and the thick screen of hostiles to get to the _Lodernde Wolken's_ belly.

It was an observation that Clyde Harlaown had made before he died, in engagements that he was in involving Cradles. The massive masterpieces of war had a formidable array of weapons lining their topsides, which rendered the possibility of attack from that side moot. Even diving a heavier H-Class ship over the Cradle was rather ineffective in damaging the vessel.

But in a particular engagement just after the Battle of Frontier Outpost, Clyde Harlaown had noticed the Belkan Knight's behaving unusually fierce when a Company of Enforcers managed to get just under the Cradle. It was then that the Admiral realized: that the Belkan Cradle was completely unarmed in its bottom side.

The Belkan war machine that was hailed as completely untouchable, had a so called weak spot. Even though it still possessed the same heavy shields and ridiculously thick armor, the fact remained that the Cradle was next to defenseless in her underside, relying solely on her Drones and Knights for protection.

Knights who were now pouring from the port and starboard hatches of the Cradle to dive in towards the _Stinger._

Major Davis barked off his orders even as his chief gunnery officer began to dole out commands for the batteries to concentrate fire on the falling Knights, "Send out the Enforcer Detachments now! Those Knights could take out our engines or defense guns. Do _not_ let them through!"

"_Dringen Sie ein_" A Knight intoned, swerving to the left to avoid being skewered by a cannon round, sending a lance like shot of energy into the offending gun emplacement.

The Lancer's shields managed to save the gun long enough for it to fire off a round into the Knight, but it was soon turned to motlen slag as yet another Belkan Knight broke through the shield and landed next to the cannon, burning it with a flame spell.

"The _Seraphim _ is taking damage!" Amy winced as a tremor shook the ship, "They've lost ten percent of their port batteries... and we've been boarded Chrono!"

"Charge status of the Arc'en'ciel?" Chrono grunted as another Knight blew his way into the ship.

"We can fire anytime now Captain!" Cried a weapons officer, "we await your command!"

Reaching somberly into the key compartment of the Captain's chair, Chrono drew the key as though it were a five ton block of metal. It was time to end the fight, but he still had many doubts as too whether he was doing the right thing. The fake Asakura did not make much sense in her words that Belka wanted its own valuable Cradle destroyed.

There were but nineteen Cradles left of the twenty four stocked. Each Cradle symbolizing the might of the Imperial War machine and home to their most prized warriors, no other ship in the Belkan Armada really mattered in comparison to them. The _Verteidiger-_Class ships of Belka were but transport ships for Knights that were so outdated and old that they were rarely seen on the front-lines. _Speerspitze_-Classes were tiny escort/tug vessels that served to help Cradles into their ports or through particularly difficult flight routes, but they lacked any form of effective firepower against armies.

_So why..._ Chrono mused darkly, even as his hand moved to push the Arc'en'ciel firing key into its firing mechanism, _Why would Belka want another good chunk of their fighting capacity to be destroyed... or have I missed something here._

Groaning slightly under the attacks the _Stinger_ came to a halt with its prow, and her vicious Arc'en'ciel cannon aimed right for the heart of the Cradle: its Reactor Core. Griffith let out a small satisfied grin. He _had_ done a pretty good job in flying the ship.

But still Chrono hesitated, his fingers quivering as he continued to be plagued by doubt.

Amy however, had no reservations and unlike the rest of the crew, was not afraid to voice her opinions to Chrono, "We can't wait any longer Chrono! We've got to shoot _now_!"

"LOOK OUT!" Screamed an aide.

Chrono's head shot up just in time to see that a lone Wolkenritter, one of the twelve normally attached to each Cradle, charge in through the Bridge module's protective reinforced glass screen with a mighty roar, his spear poised to run the Acting-Captain through.

_Crunch_

No matter the years in the future, Chrono would never forget the horrifying scene before him, a vision that would continue to haunt him as a situation that he could have been in in more ways than one.

Coughing blood and cringing in pain for the first time, the spy 'Asakura' had pushed her body beyond its limit to overcome the Struggle Bind and throw herself in front of the young Cadet.

"Why!" Roared the Wolkenritter, struggling vainly to remove his spear from the Cyborg's body to no avail.

But the automaton paid him no mind, clutching grimly onto the weapon that had pierced her 'heart', 'Asakura' turned her head to face Chrono with a sad smile, "Why I did this... Chrono Harlaown... more than because of an order... because if I could have done things over..."

Chrono knew that the fake was not trying to put on an act to get at him. He learned that Cyborgs could feel and cry. He would never view them in the same way as he had. Instead he saw them as beings to be pitied and loved.

"I wish... I could have known Hamasaki and Richter a bit better..." The spy was shedding tears freely, the crystalline fluid mixing in with the blood, "To know a family."

"Damned machine!" The Wolkenritter reached out with a hand, fully intending to blow 'Asakura's' head off with magic, "Betraying your programming! Your masters!"

Effortlessly dodging the hand, 'Asakura' displayed an impossible amount of strength for a machine so badly damaged, by crushing the Wolkeritter's hand with her own. With a tone of finality and an air of confidence, the fake spoke her final piece to Chrono, "Fire, Chrono. And find peace for yourself and those who remain."

"RRRRRAGH!" 'Asakura' returned her attention to the wounded Wolkenritter with a bone rattling battle cry, and pushed with all her flagging power.

Shouting in fear and apprehension, the Wolkenritter was dragged out of the Bridge crews' sights as the Combat Cyborg took him with her out of the broken view-port.

Moments later, the failing spy set off every last erg of magic power in her body, turning into a radiant blaze that took the screaming Wolkenritter with it.

"Chrono!" Amy was by his side instantly, checking him over for injuries.

The young soldier pushed her off, "I'm fine Amy... just rattled."

Taking a quick breath to compose himself, Chrono twisted the key firmly, all hesitation gone from his posture thanks to the words of a dying spy. The Arc'en'ciel's firing mechanisms whirred to life seconds later, heavy duty capacitors channeling cosmic amounts of energy into the port side weapon.

A white and radiant glow took shape before the _Stinger's _port-side prow and hovered there for a millisecond, before a stream of deadly power flowed forth from the cannon in an unstoppable tide to ram against the Cradle's legendary armor.

With an ear-splitting crack, the top layer of metal alloy was torn apart, shattering into glittering crimson fragments as the Arc'en'ciel proceeded onto the _Lodernde Wolken's_ thick under plates, melting through them with a steady, unrelenting pace.

And even as the damage alarms came alive in the massive Belkan warship, the Arc'en'ciel beam reached in to strike at the core.

As though screaming in pain, the _Lodernde Wolken_ reared upwards for a moment, metal shards rending themselves off the superstructure from the movement...

Then a massive explosion engulfed the entire area as the fabled vessel finally exploded, showering the Mid-Childan ships with white hot metal.

Immediately, the Drones, having lost their controllers, began falling from the skies. Knights who managed to avoid the burning rain, turned tail and fled for their lives, unwilling to face a vessel that had succeeded in destroying their greatest war machine.

On that day, Mid-Childa had finally, after months of horrific losses and defeats, tasted her first bit of bittersweet victory...

_The Battle of Hastings: a fight that saw many new entrants to the long and brutal war. _

_A battle later described as one of discovery, fleeting encounters and lessons for both sides._

_Belka, having lost much of their advantages in the air, but still possessing a great deal of command over the war, moved to commission a new set of twenty four great Cradles. Greater in power and durability, the brilliant engineers were tasked simply: Rebuild the legacy of the mighty Cradle, and crush the name of Mid-Childa's great fleets._

_Mid-Childa, though thirsty to plunge headfirst into the fray once more, to take the fight to Belka, found itself without the resources to do so, and was forced into awaiting the completion of the newer LS and X Class Warships. But none of that could overshadow the new stars of hope for the nation._

_In a cool Autumn month that very year, the new First Fleet was recommissioned in Hastings, to the wild cheers of Mid-Childans hailing from across the nation._

_Lead by the newly promoted Admiral Lindy Harlaown, the First Fleet, dubbed the Harlaown Fleet, became Mid-Childa's first combined fleet. Manned by more than Navy personnel or Enforcer Detachments, the fleet was armed to the teeth with two full Enforcer Battalions and two squads of Strikers._

_Heading this grand fleet, was another X-Class Battleship, the _Ashura, _named in memory of the famous predecessor and her fallen Admiral. Serving as her sister vessel, flew the equally illustrious _Stinger_, whose crew had been credited with a Cradle kill even before their ship was fully commissioned._

_And in this fleet, many great names would rise and fall from the ranks, among them, many young souls who would eventually come to bring hope to an ailing Mid-Childa: Amy Limietta, Chrono Harlaown, Fate T. Harlaown, Griffith Lowran, Lucino Lilie, Nanoha T. Harlaown._

_One could not say that the war was ending, or that it was merely beginning..._

_But in those few fateful months, both sides would have agreed on one point..._

_The face of war had changed..._

_and only time would tell..._

_if they would see the end to it all._

_Mid-Childa_

_Overall Commander: Admiral Damian Wolfgang (Killed-In-Action)_

_Sub-Commanders: Colonel James Anderson (Court-martialed: Demoted to Captain), Major Reaver Davis (Promoted to Lieutenant Colonel), Cadet Amy Limietta (Promoted to 2__nd__ Lieutenant) ,Cadet Chrono Harlaown (Promoted to 1__st __Liuetenant), Cadet Grffith Lowran (Promoted to 2__nd__ Lieutenant)_

_Enforcer Detachments: 142 (15 Killed-In-Action, 2 Wounded-In-Action)_

_8th Aerial Mage Division, 14th Battalion: 1042 (267 Killed-In-Action, 16 Wounded-In-Action)_

_Navy Corp: 2740 (785 Killed-In-Action, 380 Wounded-In-Action)_

_Flagship: Fortitude (Sunk)_

_Fleet Vessels: 30 (13 Sunk)_

_Belka_

_Overall Commander: Wolkenritter Commander (Killed-In-Action)_

_Wolkenritter: 11 (6 Killed-In-Action)_

_Knights Company VI: 102 (52 Killed-In-Action, 1 Wounded-In-Action)_

_Flagship: Lodernde Wolken (Sunk)_

_Drone Bombs: 1356 (All Destroyed)_

_Drone Units: 2400 (All Destroyed)_

_Combat Cyborgs: 400 (All Destroyed)_

_Spies: Captain Hamasaki Asakura Unit (Destroyed)_

_Outcome_

_Decisive Mid-Childan Victory_

* * *

><p><em><span>That which was better left unknown...<span>_

The party had been exhausting to put it mildly: she had never seen so many cadets getting drunk in her entire life, which was not entirely her fault. She was only Fourteen and well below the minimum drinking age limit. She and the rest of her equally youthful comrades had had to watch over their older and supposedly more mature colleagues as they made merry, nursing bubbly fruit juices the entire night.

But Amy Limietta was not going to be deterred from her goals at the moment. She had taken quite a bit of effort to get a bit of leave for this day, and she was not about to let fatigue put her down.

The youngest female officer aboard the famous _Stinger_ X-Class Warship was going to pay a visit to her old Orphanage: The Safe Haven.

A respectable place of good reputation, The Safe Haven had opened and begun to take in the orphaned from the start of the war, which was closing in on its first decade.

Years ago, when the Mid-Childan force had begun their advance into Belka, her parents had been killed in the crossfire that had ensued between the Belkan Border Guard and the Mid-Childan Thirty-Ninth Fleet. In retrospect, the Mid-Childans should not have started the invasion from the one village that was directly linked to the Belkan border security outpost.

Still, one blazing fireball from the Belkan side later, she was parent-less and wounded severely with a broken back.

She had lain paralyzed in Safe Haven for nearly three years after that before the manager, out of kindness, scrounged up the funds to provide her with a life-saving operation. And after another year, she had been able to walk on her own two feet once more.

However, Amy did have one small worry: Her memories in the one extra year before she joined the military was all a bit hazy. The orphanage mistress had said that she'd knocked her head when she tried to retrieve a ball for her fellow orphans.

The kindly old lady had been oddly nervous though, so she had felt that now would probably be as good a time as any to go back to seek clarification.

Stopping before the ornate door to the orphanage as the sun began to rise over the horizon, Amy reached out and pressed the buzzer.

It felt as though something had snapped in her mind, an influx of foreign information flooding her panicked mind, overriding her military training. Stiffening momentarily, Amy tried desperately to retake control of herself, teeth grinding hard in her mouth from the exertion.

Alas, the virulent notions took over her mind as quickly as she tried to stave them. Amy's muscles relaxed and to the regular passerby, she appeared to be just another visiting old girl again.

Creaking ominously, the door to the Orphanage finally opened, and a kindly looking old lady, who had a discreetly cruel aura to her beckoned the younger woman in.

"What report do you have for the Belkan Hierarchy?" The old lady hissed from within the dark confines of the building's entrance hall, "Agent Amy Limietta"

Amy Limietta calmly drew in a breath, and staring coolly in return at her superior, she spoke out in clearly, precisely...

monotonously

"_Spion 66, reporting in._"

Fin

* * *

><p><em>Translation corner first:<em>

__Dringen Sie ein_ is roughly "_Drilling shot_"  
><em>

_Lodernde Wolken means "_Burning Skies_"_

_Verteidiger is "_Defender_"_

_Speerspitze translates to "_Spearhead_"_

_The Seraphim and Cherubim are terms for Angels_

_Angelium is a non-existent word_

_And Spion is very simply "_Spy_"_

* * *

><p><em>From the Author:<em> _And that's a wrap. There's nothing much to say really, this year is decidedly worse than the previous one, given all the work piling in with the university applications and __entrance tests coming up. Learning a third and looking through a fourth language is getting really stressful. And to top it off, the world's _supposed_ to end this year... too many things to do with too little time._

_Alas, we can't ever have it all, but we can try to get the most of time._

_East Asia looks like a good travel spot next... or maybe the Americas... Australia... or South Asia... perhaps Europe?_

_Anyways... Tally Ho and here to the hope of meetings through 2012 and 2013!_


End file.
